uli  I  L^O^ 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 

DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 

SOCIETIES 

BOTANY  LIBRARY 


^ 


N 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 

00022228242 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


From  the  library 

of 

Henry  Roland  Totten 

presented  by  the 

Botanical  Garden  Foundation 

1974 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/plantstheirchildpars 


PLANTS  *whem5 


AND    THEIR    CHILDREN 


BY 

MRS.  WILLIAM    STARR   DANA 

AUTHOR    OF    "  HOW    TO    KNOW    THE    WILD    FLOWERS 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 

ALICE    JOSEPHINE    SMITH 


IP 


NEW    YORK  • :  •  CINCINNATI  • :  •  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN     BOOK    COMPANY 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
AMERICAN   BOOK   COMPANY. 


DANA  S    PLANTS. 


W.   P.   2 


m 


lima 


«y 


PREFACE 


A 


CHILD'S  reading  book,  it  seems  to  me, 
should  secure  for  the  child  three  things, 
—  practice  in  the  art  of  reading,  amusement, 
and  instruction.  Whether  my  little  book  is 
fitted  to  attain  this  threefold  object,  others 
must  decide  ;  but  in  laying  it  before  the  public, 
let  me  urge  careful  attention  to  a  few  sugges- 
tions. 

i.  As  the  book  is  arranged  so  as  to  begin 
with  the  opening  of  the  school  year  and  to  follow  it  to  its  close, 
the  interest  of  pupils  will  be  increased  by  reading  the  different 
chapters  during  the  seasons  to  which  they  refer. 

2.  The  teacher  should  exercise  judgment  as  to  the  omission  of 
any  chapter  or  group  of  chapters  which  may  seem  beyond- the 
comprehension  of  the  class.  With  a  little  care,  such  an  omission 
may  nearly  always  be  made  without  injury  to  the  usefulness  of  the 
rest  of  the  book. 

3.  Specimens  of  the  objects  described,  when  these  can  be  found 
in  the  locality,  should  always  be  on  exhibition  in  the  schoolroom. 
Whenever  possible,  the  children  themselves  should  collect  and 
handle  these  specimens.  If  for  any  reason  this  collection  by  the 
children  cannot  be  accomplished,  the  teacher  should  not  fail  to 
anticipate  the  readings,  and  to  provide  the  objects  mentioned. 

By  the  observance  of  these  simple  and  practicable  suggestions,  it 
is  believed  that,  while  the  children  are  being  trained  in  the  art  of 
reading,  their  powers  of  observation  and  of  reasoning  will  be  devel- 

3 


oped,  and  that  they  will  be  inspired  with  a  lifelong  interest  in 
nature.  The  child's  mind  is  peculiarly  alive  to  the  charm  of  nature 
when  she  is  studied  in  detail,  and  through  her  it  can  be  trained  to 
observe  accurately  and  to  reason  logically. 

Through  the  neglect  of  nature  study,  the  wits  of  the  country  child 
lose  just  the  sharpening  they  most  need,  to  say  nothing  of  a  stim- 
ulus and  delight  which  can  ill  be  spared  by  one  whose  mental  life  is 
apt  to  be  monotonous. 

The  wits  of  the  city  child  may  secure  in  other  ways  the  sharpening 
so  essential  to  success  in  life ;  yet  the  training  afforded  by  a  logical 
study  of  plants,  and  the  pleasure  which  such  a  study,  rightly 
directed,  is  sure  to  yield,  are  as  invaluable  to  him  as  to  his  country 
cousin. 

Experience  having  proved  to  my  keenest  satisfaction  that  almost 
invariably  children  can  be  interested  in  stories  of  plants  and  their 
children,  to  the  children  of  the  land  I  offer  this  little  book,  in  the 
earnest  hope  that  its  pages  may  lead  at  least  some  few  of  them  tc 
find  in  life  a  new  joy  and  a  deeper  meaning. 

The  aid  derived  from  many  sources  in  the  preparation  of  "  Plants 
and  their  Children  "  is  heartily  acknowledged ;  but  more  especially 
I  wish  to  extend  my  thanks  to  Messrs.  Holt  &  Co.  for  their  courtesy 
in  allowing  the  reproduction  of  several  cuts  from  their  valuable  and 
interesting  publication,  "The  Natural  History  of  Plants,"  translated 
from  the  German  of  Kerner  von  Marilaun. 


CONTENTS 


PART    I.  — FRUITS 

>    AND    SEEDS 

PAGE 

In  the  Orchard  .... 

9 

The  Story  of  the  Bee 

.       16 

The  Apple's  Treasures 

•       19 

What  a  Plant  lives  for 

21 

The  World  without  Plants 

•       24 

How  the  Apple  shields  its  Young 

•       27 

Some  Cousins  of  the  Apple 

•       3i 

Uneatable  Fruits 

•       34 

More  Cousins  of  the  Apple  . 

36 

Still  more  Cousins 

•       39 

In  the  Woods    .... 

4i 

Why  Seeds  travel 

50 

Some  Little  Tramps  . 

52 

Seed  Sailboats   .... 

56 

Winged  Seeds   .... 

61 

Shooting  Seeds 

63 

The  Chestnut  and  Other  Seeds 

67 

Some  Strange  Stories 

69 

PART   II.  — you: 

^G    PLANTS 

How  the  Baby  Plant  lives 

A  Schoolroom  Garden 

A  Schoolroom  Garden  {Concluded) 

5 


75 
79 
35 


Seeds  as  Food 

An  Impatient  Plant  Baby 

A  Humpbacked  Plant  Baby 


9i 
94 


PART   III 


ROOTS    AND    STEMS 


Root  Hairs      .... 
Roots  and  Underground  Stems 
Above-ground  Roots 
What  Few  Children  know 
Plants  that  cannot  stand  alone 
Some  Habits  of  Stems     . 
Stems  and  Seed  Leaves  . 
••  Well  done,  Little  Stem  " 


99 
102 
106 
112 
114 
117 
119 
122 


PART    IV.  — BUDS 

Buds  in  Winter .         .125 

A  Happy  Surprise 127 

Some  Astonishing  Buds  . 129 


PART   V.  — LEAVES 

How  to  look  at  a  Leaf     .... 

The  most  Wonderful  Thing  in  the  World 

How  a  Plant  is  built 

How  a  Plant's  Food  is  cooked 

A  Steep  Climb 

How  a  Plant  perspires     . 

How  a  Plant  stores  its  Food    . 

Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam 

Plant  or  Animal  ?    . 

How  we  are  helped  by  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam 

How  a  Plant  breathes       .  .         . 


135 

138 
142 

143 
147 
148 
149 
151 
154 
156 
158 


80TAJSTY  LIBRART 


The  Diligent  Tree 
Leaves  and  Roots 
Leaf  Veins 
Leaf  Shapes    . 
Hairy  Leaves  . 
Woolly  and  "  Dusty 
Prickles  and  Poison 
Some  Cruel  Traps  . 
More  Cruel  Traps   . 
The  Fall  of  the  Leaf 


Leaves 


PART   VI.  — FLOWERS 


The  Building  Plan  of  the  Cherry  Bl 

Lilies 

About  Stamens 

Flower  Dust,  or  Pollen 

About  Pistils  . 

The  First  Arrival     . 

Pussy  Willows 

Alders  and  Birches 

The  Great  Trees 

The  Unseen  Visitor 

Plant  Packages 

Underground  Storehouses 

Different  Building  Plans 

A  Celebrated  Family 

Clever  Customs 

Flowers  that  turn  Night  into  Day 

Horrid  Habits 

The  Story  of  the  Strawberry 

A  Cousin  of  the  Strawberry 

Another  Cousin 


Pea  Blossoms  and  Peas  . 

The  Clover's  Trick 

More  Tricks    ..... 

An  Old  Friend         .... 

The  Largest  Plant  Family  in  the  World 

Robin's  Plantain,  Golden-rod,  and  Aster 

The  Last  of  the  Flowers 


PAGE 

240 

243 
244 

247 
248 
251 
254 


PART  VII.  — LEARNING   TO    SEE 


A  Bad  Habit  . 
A  Country  Road 
A  Holiday  Lesson 


257 
261 
264 


PLANTS  AND  THEIR  CHILDREN 


3>SKC 


Part  I  —  Fruits  and  Seeds 


;/</%, 


IN   THE  ORCHARD 

[S  there  a  nicer  place  in 
which  to  play  than  an 
old  apple  orchard  ?  Once  under  those  favorite  trees 
whose  branches  sweep  the  ground,  you  are  quite  shut 
off  from  the  great,  troublesome,  outside  world.  And 
how  happy  and  safe  you  feel  in  that  green  world  of 
your  own  !  —  a  world  just  made  for  children,  a  world 
of  grass  and  leaves  and  birds  and  flowers,  where  lessons 
and  grown-up  people  alike  have  no  part. 

In  the  lightly  swinging  branches  you  find  prancing 
horses,  and  on  many  a  mad  ride  they  carry  you.     The 

9 


IO 

larger  ones  are  steep  paths  leading  up  mountain  sides. 
Great  chasms  yawn  beneath  you.  Here  only  the  dar- 
ing, the  cool-headed,  may  hope  to  be  successful  and 
reach  the  highest  points  without  danger  to  their  bones. 

Out  here  the  girls  bring  their  dolls,  and  play  house. 
Nothing  can  make  a  more  interesting  or  a  more  surpris- 
ing house  than  an  apple  tree,  its  rooms  are  so  many  and 
of  such  curious  shapes.  Then,  too,  the  seats  in  these 
rooms  are  far  more  comfortable  than  the  chairs  used 
by  ordinary  people  in  everyday  houses.  The  doings  of 
the  Robin  family  are  overlooked  by  its  windows.  One 
is  amazed  to  see  how  many  fat  worms  Mother  Robin 
manages  to  pop  down  the  yawning  baby  throats,  and 
wonders  how  baby  robins  ever  live  to  grow  up. 

From  these  windows  you  watch  the  first  flying  lesson  ; 
and  you  laugh  to  see  the  little  cowards  cling  to  the 
branch  close  by,  paying  little  heed  to  their  parents' 
noisy  indignation.  All  the  same,  you  wish  that  you 
too  might  suddenly  grow  a  pair  of  wings,  and  join  the 
little  class,  and  learn  to  do  the  one  thing  that  seems 
even  more  delightful  than  tree  climbing. 

That  you  children  long  to  be  out  of  the  schoolroom 
this  minute,  out  in  the  orchard  so  full  of  possibilities,  I 
do  not  wonder  a  bit.  But  as  the  big  people  have 
decided  that  from  now  on  for  some  months  you  must 
spend  much  of  your  time  with  lesson  books,  I  have  a 
plan  to  propose. 

What  do  you  say  to  trying  to  bring  something  of  the 
outdoor  places  that  we  love  into  the  schoolroom,  which 
we  do  not  love  as  much  as  we  should  if  lessons  were 
always  taught  in  the  right  way  ? 


II 

Now  let  us  pretend  —  and  even  grown-up  people,  who 
can  do  difficult  sums,  and  answer  questions  in  history 
and  geography  better  than  children,  cannot  "pretend" 
one  half  so  well  —  now  let  us  pretend  that  we  are  about 
to  spend  the  morning  in  the  orchard. 

Here  we  go,  out  of  the  schoolroom  into  the  air  and 
sunshine,  along  the  road,  up  the  hill,  till  we  reach  the 
stone  wall  beyond  which  lies  our  orchard. 

Ah  !  it  is  good  to  get  into  the  cool  of  the  dear,  friendly 
trees.  And  just  now,  more  than  ever,  they  seem  friend- 
ly to  you  boys  and  girls  ;  for  they  are  heavy  with  apples, 
—  beautiful  red  and  golden  apples,  that  tempt  you  to 
clamber  up  into  the  green  sea  of  leaves  above. 

Now  let  us  "  pretend "  that  you  have  had  your  fill, 
and  are  ready  to  gather  quietly  about  me 
on  the  long  grass.  But  first,  please,  one 
of  you  bring  me  an  apple.  Let  it  be  well- 
grown  and  rounded,  with  a  rosy,  sun- 
burned cheek ;  for,  as  we  are  to  spend 
some  little  time  with  this  apple,  the  more 
perfect  it  is  in  shape,  the  richer  in  color, 
the  sounder  all  the  way  through,  the  better. 
It  is  good  to  be  as  much  as  possible  with 
things  that  are  beautiful  and  wholesome  and  hearty, 
even  though  they  are  only  apples. 

Here  we  have  (Fig.  i)  a  fine  specimen.  What  do 
you  know,  any  of  you,  about  this  apple  ?  Perhaps  this 
seems  a  strange  question.  But  when  we  see  something 
that  is  fine  and  beautiful,  is  it  strange  that  we  wish  to 
know  its  history  ?  If  I  see  a  man  or  a  woman  who 
seems  to  me  all  that  a  man  or  woman  should  be ;  if  he 


12 

or  she  is  fine-looking  and  fine-acting,  straight  and  strong, 
and  beautiful  and  kind,  and  brave  and  generous,  —  I 
ask,  "  Who  is  he  ?  Where  does  she  come  from  ?  What 
have  they  done  ?  " 

Of  course,  a  fine  apple  is  not  so  interesting  as  a  fine 
man  or  woman,  or  as  a  fine  boy  or  girl.  Still  there  is 
much  of  interest  to  learn  even  about  an  apple. 

None  of  you  seems  anxious  to  tell  the  apple's  story, 
so  I  shall  have  to  start  you  with  some  questions. 

Do  you  remember  playing  in  this  same  orchard  last 
spring  ? 

Yes,  you  have  not  forgotten  those  Saturdays  in  May. 
The  trees  were  all  pink  and  white  with  apple  blossoms. 
The  air  was  sweet  with  fragrance,  and  full  of  the  voices 
of  birds,  and  of  bees  that  were  bustling  about  from 
flower  to  flower.  No,  indeed  !  you  have  not  forgotten 
those  happy  mornings.  What  is  more,  you  never  will. 
They  are  among  the  things  that  will  stay  by  you,  and 
be  a  rest  and  help  to  you  all  your  lives.  I  wish  there 
were  no  child  living  that  might  not  carry  with  him 
always  the  memory  of  May  days  in  an  apple  orchard. 

How  has  it  come  about,  do  you  suppose,  that  these 
trees  which  in  May  were  covered  with  flowers  are  now 
heavy  with  apples  ? 

Can  any  of  you  children  answer  this  riddle  ?  How 
have  these  great  apples  managed  to  take  the  place  of 
the  delicate  apple  blossoms  ? 

There  are  some  children  who  keep  their  eyes  open, 
and  really  see  what  is  going  on  about  them,  instead  of 
acting  as  if  they  were  quite  blind  ;  and  perhaps  some 
such  child  will  say,  " Oh,  yes!   I  know  how  it  happened. 


13 

I  have  seen  it  all,"  and  will  be  able  to  tell  the  whole 
story  at  once. 

I  should  like  very  much  to  meet  that  boy  or  girl, 
and  I  should  like  to  take  a  country  walk  with  him  or 
her ;  for  there  are  so  few  children,  or  grown  people 
either,  who  use  both  their  eyes  to  see  with,  and  the 
brain  which  lies  back  of  their  eyes  to  think  and  question 
with,  that  it  is  a  rare  treat  to  meet  and  to  go  about  with 
one  of  them. 

But  I  should  be  almost  as  much  pleased  to  meet  the 
child  who  says,  ''Well,  I  know  that  first  the  blossoms 
come.  Early  in  May  they  make  the  orchard  so  nice 
to  play  in.  But  in  a  few  days  they  begin  to  fall. 
Their  little  white  leaves  come  dropping  down  like 
snowflakes ;  and  soon  after,  if  you  climb  out  along 
the  branches  and  look  close,  where  there  was  a 
blossom  before,  you  find  now  a  little  green  thing 
something  like  a  knob  (Fig.  2).  This  tiny  knob 
keeps  growing  bigger  and  bigger,  and  then  you  see 
that  it  is  a  baby  apple.  As  the  weeks  go  by,  the  little 
apple  grows  into  a  big  one  ;  and  at  last  the  green  begins 
to  fade  away,  and  the  red  and  yellow  to  come.  One  day 
you  find  the  great  grown  apple  all  ripe,  and  ready  to 
eat.  But  I  never  could  see  just  what  made  it  come  like 
that,  such  a  big,  heavy  apple  from  such  a  little  flower, 
and  I  always  wondered  about  it." 

Now,  if  we  wonder  about  the  things  we  see,  we  are 
on  the  right  road.  The  child  who  first  "sees"  what  is 
happening  around  him,  and  then  "wonders"  and  asks 
questions,  is  sure  to  be  good  company  to  other  people 
and  to  himself.     (And  as  one  spends  more  time  with 


14 

himself  than  with  any  one  else,  he  is  lucky  if  he  finds 
himself  a  pleasant  companion.)  Such  a  child  has  not 
lost  the  use  of  his  eyes,  as  so  many  of  us  seem  to  have 
done.  And  when  the  little  brain  is  full  of  questions,  it 
bids  fair  to  become  a  big  brain,  which  may  answer  some 
day  the  questions  the  world  is  asking. 

Before  I  tell  you  just  how  the  big  apple  managed  to 
take  the  place  of  the  pretty,  delicate  flower,  let  us  take 
a  good  look  at  this  flower. 

But  in  September  apple  flowers  are  not  to  be  had 
for  the  asking.  Not  one  is  to  be  found  on  all  these 
trees.  So  just  now  we  must  use  the 
picture  instead.  And  when  May  comes, 
your  teacher  will  bring  you  a  branch 
bearing  the  beautiful  blossoms ;  or,  bet- 
ter still,  perhaps  she  will  take  you  out 
into  the  orchard  itself,  and  you  can  go 
over  this  chapter  again  with  the  lovely 
J  living  flowers  before  you. 

Now,  as  you  look  at  this  picture  of  the  apple  flower 
(Fig.  3),  you  see  a  circle  made  up  of  five  pretty  leaves. 
Sometimes  these  are  white ;  again  they  are  pink.  And 
in  the  center  what  do  you  see?  Why,  there  you  see  a 
quantity  of  odd-looking  little  things  whose  names  you 
do  not  know.  They  look  somewhat  like  small,  rather 
crooked  pins;  for  on  the  tips  of  most  of  them  are 
objects  which  remind  you  of  the  head  of  a  pin. 

If  you  were  looking  at  a  real  flower,  you  would  see 
that  these  pin  heads  were  little  boxes  filled  with  a 
yellow  dust  which  comes  off  upon  one's  fingers;  and 
so  for  the  present  we  will  call  them  "dust  boxes." 


is 

But  besides  these  pins  —  later  we  shall  learn  their 
real  names  —  besides  these  pins  with  dust  boxes,  we 
find  some  others  which  are  without  any  such  boxes. 
The  shape  of  these  reminds  us  a  little  of  the  pegs  or 
pins  we  use  in  the  game  of  tenpins.  If  we  looked  at 
them  very  closely,  we  should  see  that  there  were  five 
of  them,  but  that  these  five  were  joined  below 
into  one  piece. 

Now  suppose  we  take  the  apple  blossom 
and  pull  off  all  its  pretty  white  flower  leaves, 
and  all  the  pins  with  dust  boxes,  what  will  be 
left? 

This  picture  (Fig.  4)  shows  you  just  what 
is  left.  You  see  what  looks  like  a  little  cup 
or  vase.     The  upper  part  of  this  is  cut  into  '.  4 

five  pieces,  which  are  rolled  back.  In  the  picture  one 
of  these  pieces  is  almost  out  of  sight.  In  the  real 
blossom  these  pieces  look  like  little  green  leaves.  And 
set  into  this  cup  is  the  lower,  united  part  of  those  pins 
which  have  no  dust  boxes  on  top. 

I  fancy  that  you  are  better  acquainted  with  the  apple 
blossom  than  ever  before,  never  mind  how  many  morn- 
ings you  may  have  spent  in  the  sweet-smelling,  pink 
and  white  orchard.  You  know  just  what  goes  to  make 
up  each  separate  flower,  for  all  the  many  hundreds  of 
blossoms  are  made  on  the  one  plan. 

And  only  now  are  you  ready  to  hear  what  happened 
to  make  the  apple  take  the  place  of  the  blossom. 


THE   STORY  OF   THE   BEE    |» 


THIS  is  what   happened.     And    it  is   a 
true  story. 

One  morning  last  May  a  bee  set  out  among  the 
flowers  on  a  honey  hunt. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  more  true  to  say  that  the  bee 
set  out  to  hunt  for  the  sweet  stuff  of  which  honey  is 
made ;  for  while  this  sweet  stuff  is  still  in  the  flower 
cup  it  is  not  honey,  any  more  than  the  wheat  growing 
in  the  field  is  bread.  The  wheat  becomes  bread  later, 
after  it  has  been  cut  and  gathered  and  threshed  and 
ground,  and  brought  into  the  kitchen  and  there  changed 
into  bread ;  and  the  sweet  stuff  becomes  honey  only 
after  the  bees  have  carried  it  home  and  worked  it. 

As  the  bee  left  home  this  particular  morning,  it  made 
up  its  mind  that  it  would  devote  itself  to  the  apple 
blossoms ;  for  did  you  know  that  when  a  bee  goes 
flower  visiting,  usually  it  gives  all  its  attention  to  one 
kind  of  flower  till  it  has  finished  that  special  round 
of  visits  ? 

16 


17 

So  off  the  bee  flew  ;  and  in  a  few  moments  it  saw 
hundreds  of  little  pink  and  white  handkerchiefs  waving 
at  it  from  the  apple  orchard. 

What  do  you  suppose  these  were,  these  gay  little 
handkerchiefs  ?  They  were  the  flower  leaves  of  the 
apple  blossoms.  I  call  them  handkerchiefs,  because, 
just  as  boys  and  girls  sometimes  wave  their  handker- 
chiefs when  they  wish  to  signal  other  boys  and  girls, 
so  the  apple  tree  uses  its  gay  flower  leaves  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  bee,  and  persuade  it  to  visit  the 
flowers.  Of  course,  really,  they  are  not  handkerchiefs 
at  all.  They  would  hardly  be  large  enough  for  any  but 
fairy  noses,  would  they  ? 

When  the  bee  saw  so  many  bright  handkerchiefs 
waving  it  welcome,  along  it  hurried ;  for  it  knew  this 
was  a  signal  that  material  for  honey  making  was  at 
hand.  Another  minute,  and  it  had  settled  upon  a 
freshly  opened  flower,  and  was  eagerly  stealing  the 
precious  sweet. 

You  children  know,  that,  when  you  are  given  per- 
mission to  go  to  the  closet  for  a  piece  of  candy  or  cake, 
you  are  not  apt  to  set  about  it  very  gently.  You  are  in 
too  much  of  a  hurry  for  that.  Often  you  come  very 
near  knocking  everything  over,  in  your  haste  to  get 
hold  of  what  you  want. 

And  bees  are  quite  as  greedy  as  any  boy  or  girl  could 
be.  So  our  friend  dived  right  into  the  pretty  flower, 
brushing  rudely  against  the  little  dust  boxes.  These, 
being  full  to  overflowing  with  golden  dust,  spilled  their 
contents,  and  powdered  the  bee  quite  yellow. 

Having  made  sure  that  nothing  more  was  to  be  found 

DANA'S    PLANTS. 2 


18 

just  there,  off  flew  the  dusty  bee  to  the  next  blossom. 
Into  this  it  pushed  its  way,  and  in  so  doing  struck 
those  pins  which  have  no  dust  boxes  ;  and  upon  their 
broad,  flat  tips  fell  some  of  the  yellow  dust  grains  with 
which  its  body  was  powdered. 

Now  there  began  to  happen  a  strange  thing. 

But  before  I  tell  you  more,  I  must  stop  one  moment 
to  remind  you  that  these  pins  without  dust  boxes  are 
joined  below  into  one  piece,  and  that  this  piece  is  set 
deep  into  the  green  cup  which  holds  the  rest  of  the 
flower  (see  Fig.  4) ;  and  I  must  tell  you,  that,  if  you 
should  cut  open  this  cup,  you  would  find  a  number  of 
little  round  objects  looking  like  tiny  green  eggs. 

The  strange  thing  that  began  to  happen  was  this :  — 

Soon  after  the  yellow  dust  from  the  bee  fell  upon 
the  flat  tips  of  the  pins  without  dust  boxes,  the  little 
green  objects  deep  within  the  green  cup  became  full 
of  life,  and  began  to  get  larger.  And  not  only  this : 
the  green  cup  also  seemed  to  feel  this  new  life ;  for  it 
too  grew  bigger  and  bigger,  and  juicier  and  juicier, 
until  it  became  the  fine  juicy  apple  we  have  before  us 
this  morning. 

So  now  you  understand  a  little  of  what  happened  to 
make  the  great  apple  take  the  place  of  the  delicate 
blossom. 


19 


THE   APPLE'S   TREASURES 


Fig.  5 


IF  we  lift  our  apple  by  its  stem,  it  hangs  in  the  same 
position  as  when  growing  on  the  tree  (Fig.  5). 
But  the  blossom  whose  place  in  the  world  is 
taken  by  this   apple   held    its    little    head 
proudly  in  the  air.    So  let  us  put  the  apple 
in  the  same  position,  and  see  what  is  left 
of    the    flower   from    which    it    has    come 
(Fig.  6). 

We  see  the  apple  stem,  which  last  May 
was    the    flower   stem.      This    has    grown 

thick  and  strong  enough  to  hold  the  apple 
fast  to  the  tree  till  it  ripens  and  is  ready 
to  drop. 

The  upper  part  of  the  stem  you  cannot 
see,  because  the  apple  has  swelled  down- 
wards all  about  it,  or  upwards  we  should 
say,  if  it  were  still  on  the  tree. 

On   the    top    of    the    apple,   in    a   little 
hollow,    we    see    some    crumpled    things 
which  look  like  tiny  withered  leaves. 

You  remember  that  when  the  bee  left  the  yellow 
dust  in  the  apple  blossom,  the  green  cup  began  to 
grow  big  and  juicy,  and  to  turn  into  the  apple.  And 
these  little  crumpled  things  are  all  that  is  left  of  the 
five  green  leaves  into  which  the  upper  part  of  the  cup 
was  divided.  These  little  leaves  have  been  out  in  all 
kinds  of  weather  for  many  weeks,  so  no  wonder  they 
look  rather  mussy  and  forlorn. 


Fig.  6 


20 


Fig.  7 


It  is   hard   to    realize   that   from   the   center   of    this 
now  crumpled  bunch   grew  the  pretty  apple  blossom. 
Now  where  are  those  tiny  round  things 
that  were   packed  away  inside  the   green 
cup  ? 

Well,  as  that  cup  is  now  this  apple,  the 
chances  are  that  they  are  still  hidden  safely 
away  within  it.  So  let  us  take  a  knife  and 
cut  the  apple  open. 
What  do  you  find  in  its  very  heart  ?  If  you  cut  it 
through  crosswise,  you  find  five  brown  seeds  packed  as 
neatly  as  jewels  in  their  case  (Fig.  7);  and 
if  you  cut  it  through  lengthwise,  you  dis- 
cover only  two  or  three  seeds  (Fig.  8). 

Probably  I  need  not  say  to  you  that 
these  seeds  were  once  the  little  round 
things  hidden  within  the  green  cup. 

Some   day  I  will  tell  you  a  great  deal 
more    about    the    wonderful    golden    dust 
which  turns  flowers  into  apples  as  easily 
as  Cinderella's  fairy  godmother  turned  rats  into  ponies, 
and  pumpkins  into  coaches. 

But  all  this  will  come  later.     Just  now  I  want  to  talk 
about  something  else. 


Fig.  8 


WHAT    A    PLANT    LIVES 
FOR 

WHEN    you    go    for    a    walk    in    the 
country,  what  do  you  see  all  about 
you  ? 

"  Cows  and  horses,  and  chickens  and 
birds,  and  trees  and  flowers," 
answers  some  child. 

Yes,  all  of    these   things   you 

see.     But  of  the  trees  and  plants 

you    see    even    more   than    of    the 

horses    and  cows  and  birds.      On 

every  side  are  plants  of  one  kind 

or  another.     The  fields  are  full  of 

grass  plants.     The  woods  are  full  of  tree 

plants.     Along  the  roadside  are  plants  of 

many  varieties. 

Now,  what  are  all  these  plants  trying 
to  do?     "To   grow,"  comes  the  answer. 

21 


22 


Fig.  9 


To  grow  big  and  strong  enough  to  hold  their  own  in 
the  world.     That  is  just  what  they  are  trying  to  do. 
Then,  too,  they  are  trying  to  flower. 
"  But  they  don't  all  have  flowers,"  objects  one  voice. 
You  are  right.     They  do  not  all  have  flowers ;    but 
you  would  be  surprised  to   know  how  many  of  them 
do.     In  fact,  all  of  them  except  the  ferns  and  mosses, 
and   a  few   others,   some   of  which   you  would   hardly 
recognize   as  plants,  —  all   of  them,   with  these   excep- 
tions, flower  at  some  time  in  their  lives. 

All  the  trees  have  flowers,  and  all  the  grasses  (Figs. 
9,  io);  and  all  those  plants  which  get  so  dusty  along 
the  roadside,  and  which  you  call  "  weeds,"  —  each 
one  of  these  has  its  own  flower.  This  may  be  so 
small  and  dull-looking  that  you  have  never  noticed 
it ;  and  unless  you  look  sharply,  perhaps  you 
never  will.     But  all  the  same,  it  is  a  flower. 

But  there  is  one  especial  thing  which  is  really 
the  object  of  the  plant's  life.  Now,  who  can  tell 
me  this  :  what  is  this  object  of  a  plant's  life  ? 

Do  you  know  just  what  I  mean  by  this  ques- 
tion ?     I  doubt  it ;  but  I  will  try  to  make  it  clear 
to  you. 

If  I  see  a  boy  stop  his  play,  get  his  hat,  and  start 
down  the  street,  I  know  that  he  has  what  we  call  "  an 
object  in  view."  There  is  some  reason  for  what  he  is 
doing.  And  if  I  say  to  him,  "  What  is  the  object  of  your 
walk?"  I  mean,  "For  what  are  you  going  down  the 
street?"  And  if  he  answers,  "I  am  going  to  get  a 
pound  of  tea  for  my  mother,"  I  know  that  a  pound  of 
tea  is  the  object  of  his  walk. 


23 


So  when  I  ask  what  is  the  object  of  a  plant's  life,  I 
mean  why  does  a  plant  send  out  roots  in  search  of  food, 
and  a  stem  to  carry  this  food  upward,  and 
leaves  to  drink  in  air  and  sunshine  ?     What 
is  the  object  of  all  this  ? 

A  great  many  people  seem  to  think  that 
the  object  of  all  plants  with  pretty  flowers 
must  be  to  give  pleasure.  But  these  people 
quite  forget  that  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
flowers  live  and  die  far  away  in  the  lonely 
forest,  where  no  human  eye  ever  sees  them ; 
that  they  so  lived  and  died  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  years  before  there  were  any 
men  and  women,  and  boys  and  girls,  upon 
the  earth.  And  so,  if  they  stopped  long 
enough  quietly  to  think  about  it,  they  would 
see  for  themselves  that  plants  must  have 
some  other  object  in  life  than  to  give  people  pleasure. 

But  now  let  us  go  back  to  the  tree  from  which  we 
took  this  apple,  and  see  if  we  can  find  out  its  special 
object. 

"Why,  apples  !  "  some  of  you  exclaim.  "  Surely  the 
object  of  an  apple  tree  is  to  bear  apples." 

That  is  it  exactly.     An  apple  tree  lives  to  bear  apples. 

And  now  why  is  an  apple  such  an  important  thing  ? 
Why  is  it  worth  so  much  time  and  trouble  ?  What  is 
its  use  ? 

"  It  is  good  to  eat,"  chime  all  the  children  in  chorus. 

Yes,  so  it  is  ;  but  then,  you  must  remember  that  once 
upon  a  time,  apple  trees,  like  all  other  plants  and  trees, 
grewT  in  lonely  places  where   there  were  no   boys   and 


Fig.  io 


24 

girls  to  eat  their  fruit.  So  we  must  find  some  other 
answer. 

Think  for  a  moment,  and  then  tell  me  what  you  find 
inside  every  apple. 

"  Apple  seeds,"  one  of  you  replies. 

And  what  is  the  use  of  these  apple  seeds  ? 

"  Why,  they  make  new  apple  trees  !  " 

If  this  be  so,  if  every  apple  holds  some  little  seeds 
from  which  new  apple  trees  may  grow,  does  it  not  look 
as  though  an  apple  were  useful  and  important  because 
it  yields  seeds  ? 

And  what  is  true  of  the  apple  tree  is  true  of  other 
plants  and  trees.  The  plant  lives  to  bear  fruit.  The 
fruit  is  that  part  of  the  plant  which  holds  its  seeds  ; 
and  it  is  of  importance  for  just  this  reason,  that  it  holds 
the  seeds  from  which  come  new  plants. 


>XKc 


THE   WORLD   WITHOUT    PLANTS 

WE  have  just  learned  that  the  fruit  is  important 
because  it  holds  the  plant's  seeds  ;  and  we  know 
that  seeds  are  important  because  from  them  come  the 
new  plants  for  another  year.  Let  us  stop  here  one 
moment,  and  try  to  think  what  would  happen  if  plants 
should  stop  having  seeds,  if  there  should  be  no  new 
plants. 

We  all,  and  especially  those  of  us  who  are  children, 
carry  about  with  us  a  little  picture  gallery  of  our  very 
own.      In  this  gallery  are  pictures  of  things  which  our 


25 

real  eyes  have  never  seen,  yet  which  we  ourselves  see 
quite  as  plainly  as  the  objects  which  our  eyes  rest  upon 
in  the  outside  world.  Some  of  these  pictures  are  very 
beautiful.  They  show  us  things  so  wonderful  and  de- 
lightful and  interesting,  that  at  times  we  forget  all  about 
the  real,  outside  things.  Indeed,  these  pictures  often 
seem  to  us  more  real  than  anything  else  in  the  world. 
And  once  in  a  great  while  we  admire  them  so  earnestly 
that  we  are  able  to  make  them  come  true ;  that  is,  we 
turn  our  backs  upon  them,  and  work  so  hard  to  bring 
them  about,  that  at  last  what  was  only  a  picture  be- 
comes a  reality. 

Perhaps  some  of  you  children  can  step  into  this  little 
gallery  of  your  own,  and  see  a  picture  of  the  great 
world  as  it  would  be  if  there  should  be  no  new  plants. 

This  picture  would  show  the  world  some  hundreds  of 
years  from  now ;  for,  although  some  plants  live  only  a 
short  time,  others  (and  usually  these  are  trees)  live  hun- 
dreds of  years. 

But  in  the  picture  even  the  last  tree  has  died  away. 
Upon  the  earth  there  is  not  one  green,  growing  thing. 
The  sun  beats  down  upon  the  bare,  brown  deserts.  It 
seems  to  scorch  and  blister  the  rocky  mountain  sides. 
There  are  no  cool  shadows  where  one  can  lie  on  a 
summer  afternoon ;  no  dark,  ferny  nooks,  such  as 
children  love,  down  by  the  stream.  But,  after  all,  that 
does  not  matter  much,  for  there  are  no  children  to 
search  out  such  hidden,  secret  spots. 

"No  children!     Why,  what  has  happened  to  them?" 

Well,  if  plants  should  stop  having  children  (for  the 
little  young  plants  that  come  up  each  year  are  just  the 


26 

children  of  the  big,  grown-up  plants),  all  other  life  — 
the  life  of  all  grown  people,  and  of  all  children,  and  of 
all  animals  —  would  also  come  to  an  end. 

Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  of  this,  —  that  your  very 
life  depended  upon  these  plants  and  trees  ?  You  know 
that  they  are  pretty  to  look  at,  and  pleasant  to  play 
about;  but  I  doubt  if  you  ever  realized  before,  that  to 
them  you  owe  your  life. 

Now  let  us  see  how  this  can  be.  What  did  you  have 
this  morning  for  breakfast  ? 

Bread  and  milk  ?  Well,  of  what  is  the  bread  made  ? 
Flour?  Yes,  and  the  flour  is  made  from  the  seeds  of 
the  wheat.  If  the  wheat  stopped  having  seeds,  you 
would  stop  having  bread  made  from  wheat  seeds.  That 
is  plain  enough. 

Then  the  milk,  —  where  does  that  come  from? 

"That  comes  from  the  cows,  and  cows  are  not 
plants,"  you  say. 

True,  cows  are  not  plants,  but  what  would  happen  to 
the  cows  if  there  were  no  plants  ?  Do  not  cows  live  in 
the  green  meadows,  where  all  day  long  they  munch  the 
grass  plants?  And  would  there  be  any  green  meadows 
and  all-day  banquets,  in  years  to  come,  if  the  grass  did 
not  first  flower,  and  then  seed?  So  then,  no  grass,  no 
cows,  and  you  would  be  without  milk  as  well  as  without 
bread  for  breakfast. 

And  so  it  is  with  all  the  rest  of  our  food.  We  live  on 
either  plants  or  animals.  If  there  were  no  plants,  there 
would  be  no  animals,  for  animals  cannot  live  without 
plants. 

It  is  something  like  the  house  that  Jack  built,  isn't  it? 


2/ 

"We  are  the  children  that  drink  the  milk,  that  comes 
from  the  cows,  that  eat  the  grass,  that  grows  from  the 
seeds  in  the  meadow." 

"If  there  were  no  seeds,  there  would  be  no  grass  to 
feed  the  cows  that  give  us  our  milk  for  breakfast." 

And  so  it  is  everywhere.  Plants  give  us  a  kind  of 
food  that  we  must  have,  and  that  only  they  can  give. 
They  could  get  on  well  enough  without  animals.  In- 
deed, for  a  long  time  they  did  so,  many  hundreds  of 
years  ago.      But  animals  cannot  live  without  plants. 

I  think  you  will  now  remember  why  seeds  are  of 
such  great  importance. 


D>^C 


HOW  THE  APPLE  SHIELDS  ITS  YOUNG 

SOME  time  ago  you  noticed  that  apple  seeds  were 
packed  away  within  the  apple  as  neatly  as  though 
they  were  precious  jewels  in  their  case. 

When  we  see  something  done  up  very  carefully,  sur- 
rounded with  cotton  wool,  laid  in  a  beau- 
tiful box,  and  wrapped  about  with  soft 
paper,  we  feel  sure  that  the  object  of  all 
this  care  is  of  value.  Even  the  outside  of 
such  a  package  tells  us  that  something 
precious  lies  within. 

But  what  precious  jewels  could  be  laid 
away    more    carefully    than    these    apple 
seeds?     And  what  jewel  case  could  boast 
a  more  beautiful  outside   than   this   red-cheeked  apple 
(Fig.  ii)? 


28 

Pass   it   around.      Note   its   lovely    color,  its   delicate 

markings,  its  satin-like  skin.      For  myself,   I  feel  sure 

that  I   never  have  seen  a  jewel  case  one 

half  so  beautiful. 

Then  cut  it  open  and  see  how  carefully 

the    soft   yet   firm   apple    flesh   is   packed 

about  the  little  seeds,  keeping  them  safe 

from  harm  (Fig.  12). 
Fig.  12 

But  perhaps  you  think  that  anything  so 

good   to   eat   is   not   of   much   use  as  a  protection.     It 

takes  you  boys  and  girls  about  half  a  minute  to  swallow 

such  a  jewel  case  as  this. 

But  here  comes  the  interesting  part  of  the  story. 

When  you  learn  how  well  able  this  apple  is  to  defend 
from  harm  its  precious  seeds,  I  think  you  will  look  upon 
it  with  new  respect,  and  will  own  that  it  is  not  only  a 
beautiful  jewel  case,  but  a  safe  one. 

All  seeds  need  care  and  wrapping-up  till  they  are 
ripe ;  for  if  they  fall  to  the  ground  before  they  are  well 
grown,  they  will  not  be  able  to  start  new  plants. 

You  know  that  you  can  tell  whether  an  apple  is  ripe 
by  looking  at  its  seeds,  for  the  fruit  and  its  seeds  ripen 
together.  \\  nen  the  apple  seeds  are  dark  brown,  then 
the  apple  is  ready  to  be  eaten. 

But  if,  in  order  to  find  out  whether  an  apple  was  ripe, 
you  were  obliged  always  to  examine  its  seeds,  you  might 
destroy  many  apples  and  waste  many  young  seeds  be- 
fore you  found  what  you  wished ;  so,  in  order  to  protect 
its  young,  the  apple  must  tell  you  when  it  is  ready  to 
be  eaten  in  some  other  way  than  by  its  seeds. 

How  does  it  do  this?     Why,  it  puts  off  its  green  coat, 


29 

and  instead  wears  one  of  red  or  yellow ;  and  from  being 
hard  to  the  touch,  it  becomes  soft  and  yielding  when 
you  press  it  with  your  fingers.  If  not  picked,  then  it 
falls  upon  the  ground  in  order  to  show  you  that  it  is  wait- 
ing for  you;  and  when  you  bite  into  it,  you  find  it  juicy, 
and  pleasant  to  the  taste. 

While  eating  such  an  apple  as  this,  you  can  be  sure 
that  when  you  come  to  the  inner  part,  which  holds  its 
seeds,  you  will  find  these  brown,  and  ripe,  and  quite 
ready  to  be  set  free  from  the  case  which  has  held  them 
so  carefully  all  summer. 

But  how  does  the  apple  still  further  protect  its  young 
till  they  are  ready  to  go  out  into  the  world  ? 

Well,  stop  and  think  what  happened  one  day  last 
summer  when  you  stole  into  the  orchard  and  ate  a 
quantity  of  green  apples,  the  little  seeds  of  which  were 
far  too  white  and  young  to  be  sent  off  by  themselves. 

In  the  first  place,  as  soon  as  you  began  to  climb 
the  tree,  had  you  chosen  to  stop  and  listen,  you  could 
almost  have  heard  the  green  skins  of  those  apples  call- 
ing out  to  you,  "Don't  eat  us,  we're  not  ripe  yet!  " 

And  when  you  felt  them  with  your  fingers,  they  were 
hard  to  the  touch  ;  and  this  hardness  said  to  you,  "  Don't 
eat  us,  we're  not  ripe  yet!" 

But  all  the  same,  you  ate  them ;  and  the  sour  taste 
which  puckered  up  your  mouth  said  to  you,  "  Stop  eat- 
ing us,  we're  not  ripe  yet !  " 

But  you  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  their  warnings ; 
and,  though  they  spared  no  pains,  those  apples  were 
not  able  to  save  their  baby  seeds  from  being  wasted  by 
your  greediness. 


30 

But  there  was  still  one  thing  they  could  do  to  prevent 
your  eating  many  more  green  apples,  and  wasting  more 
half-ripe  seeds.  They  could  punish  you  so  severely  for 
having  disobeyed  their  warnings,  that  you  would  not  be 
likely  very  soon  to  do  the  same  thing  again. 

And  this  is  just  what  they  did. 

When  feeling  so  ill  and  unhappy  that  summer  night 
from  all  the  unripe  fruit  you  had  been  eating,  perhaps 
you  hardly  realized  that  those  apples  were  crying  out  to 
you,  — 

"  You  would  not  listen  to  us,  and  so  we  are  punishing 
you  by  making  you  ill  and  uncomfortable.  When  you 
saw  how  green  we  were,  we  were  begging  you  not  to 
eat  us  till  our  young  seeds  were  ripe.  When  you  felt 
how  hard  we  were,  we  were  trying  to  make  you  under- 
stand that  we  wTere  not  ready  for  you  yet..  And,  now 
that  you  have  eaten  us  in  spite  of  all  that  we  did  to  save 
ourselves  and  our  seeds,  we  are  going  to  make  you  just 
as  unhappy  as  we  know  how..  Perhaps  next  time  you 
will  pay  some  heed  to  our  warnings,  and  will  leave  us 
alone  till  we  are  ready  to  let  our  young  ones  go  out  into 
the  world." 

So  after  this  when  I  show  you  an  apple,  and  ask  you 
what  you  know  about  it,  I  fancy  you  will  have  quite  a 
story  to  tell,  —  a  story  that  begins  with  one  May  day  in 
the  orchard,  when  a  bee  went  flower  visiting,  and  ends 
with  the  little  brown  seeds  which  you  let  fall  upon  the 
ground,  when  you  had  finished  eating  the  rosy  cheeks 
and  juicy  pulp  of  the  apple  seed  case.  And  the  apple's 
story  is  also  the  story  of  many  other  fruits. 


SOME 

COUSINS 


OF    THE   APPLE 


THE  pear  (Fig.  13)/'  is  a  near  cousin  of  the  apple. 
But  perhaps  you  did  not  know  that  plants  and 
trees  had  cousins. 

As  you  learn  more  and  more  about  them,  you  will 
begin  to  feel  that  in  many  ways  plants  are  very  much 
like  people. 

Both  the  pear  and  the  apple  belong  to  the  Rose 
family.  They  are  cousins  to  all  the  garden  roses,  as 
well  as  to  the  lovely  wild  rose  that  you  meet  so  often 
in  summer  along  the  roadside. 

We  know  some  families  where  the  girls 
and  boys  look  so  much  alike  that  we  could 
guess  they  were  brothers  and  sisters,  even  if 
we  did  not  know  that  they  all  lived  in  the 
one  house  and  had  the  one  family  name.  If 
we  look  carefully  at  the  plants  we  meet,  at 
their  leaves  and  flowers  and  fruits,  and  even 
at  their  stems  and  roots,  often  we  may  guess 
rightly  which  ones  belong  to  the  same  family. 

31 


Fig.  13 


32 


If  we  place  side  by  side  an  apple  blossom  and  a  pear 
blossom,  we  see  that  they  are  very  like  each  other. 
Both  have  the  green  outside  cup  which  above  is  cut 
into  five  little  green  leaves.  Both  have  five  white  or 
pinkish  flower  leaves.  Both  have  a  good  many  pins 
with  dust  boxes,  and  from  two  to  five  of  those  pins 
without  dust  boxes. 

If  we  place  side  by  side  a  pear  and  an  apple,  we 
see  in  both  cases  that  it  is  the  green  cup,  grown 
big  and  juicy  and  ripe,  which  forms  the  delicious 
fruit. 

If  we  cut  these  two  fruits  open  lengthwise,  we  can 
see  just  how  the  pins  without  dust  boxes  are  set  into 
the  green  cup  ;  and  we  can  see  that  the  lower,  united 
part  of  these  pins  makes  a  little  box  which  holds  the 
seeds. 

In  the  picture  (Fig.  14)  the  shading  shows  you  where 
this  seedbox  ends,  and  the  green  cup,  or 
what  once  was  the  green  cup,  begins.  This 
is  rather  hard  to  understand,  I  know ;  but 
your  teacher  can  make  it  clear  to  you  with  a 
real  pear. 

So  it  ought  to   surprise  you  no  longer  to 

learn  that  the  apple  and  the  pear  are  cousins. 

Now,  I  want  you  to  look  at  the  picture  at 

the   head  of  this  chapter.     This  is  the  wild 

rose,  the  flower  from  which  the  great  Rose 

family  takes  its  name. 

This   rose   is   a   much   larger  flower  than   either  the 

apple  or  the  pear  blossom.      Its  flower  leaves  are  deep 

pink.     These  bright  flower  leaves  make  gay  handker- 


Fig.  14 


33 


Fig.  15 


chiefs    for    signaling    when    the    rose    plant    wishes    to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  bees. 

But  there  are  five  of  them,  just  as  there  are  in  the 
apple  and  the  pear  blossom ;  and  there  are  the  pins 
with  dust  boxes,  —  so  many  of  them,  in  the  rose,  that  it 
would  take  some  time  to  count  them  all.  And  in  the 
center  are  the  pins  which  have  seedboxes 
below ;  for  these  pins  in  the  rose  are  quite 
separate  one  from  another,  and  each  one  has 
its  own  little  seedbox. 

So,  though  different  in  some  ways,  in  others 
the  flower  of  the  rose  is  very  much  like  those 
of  the  apple  and  the  pear. 

In  this  picture  (Fig.  15)  you  see  its  fruit. 
This  is  called  the  "rose  hip."  When  ripe,  it  turns 
bright  red.  In  late  summer  you  see  the  rosebushes 
covered  with  these  pretty  hips.  At  times  this  fruit 
does  not  look  altogether  unlike  a  tiny  apple  or  pear; 
but  if  we  cut  it  open  lengthwise,  we  see  that  its  inside 
arrangements  are  quite  different. 

The  lower  parts  of  the  pins  without  dust  boxes  do 
not  grow  into  one  piece  with  the  green  cup 
(now  the  red  cup),  as  in  the  apple  and  the 
pear.  Instead,  this  cup  (Fig.  16)  is  hollow. 
To  its  inner  sides  are  fastened  the  little  seed- 
boxes,  as  you  will  see  if  you  look  carefully 
at  the  picture.  This  hollow  case  with  its 
separate  seedboxes  shows  you  that  the  rose 
plant  is  not  so  closely  related  to  the  pear 
and  the  apple  trees  as  these  trees  are  to  each  other 


Fig.  16 


DANA  S    PLANTS. 


34 


UNEATABLE    FRUITS 


PERHAPS    one    day   you 
bit  into  the  fruit  of  the 
rose,  and  found  it  sour  and 
unpleasant  to  the  taste.     You 
may  have  forgotten  that  not 
long  ago  you  learned  a  new 
meaning  for  the  word  "  fruit." 
Possibly  you  still  fancy  that  a 
fruit  must  be  something  good 
to    eat.      So    many  people    have 
this  idea,  that  once  more  I  wish  to 
make  clear  to  you  that  the  fruit  is  the 
seed-holding  part  of  the  plant. 
Whether  this    part  is   good  to  eat  or  not, 
makes  no  difference  as  to  its  being  a  fruit. 

The  apple  is  a  fruit,  you  remember,  not  be- 
cause it  is  good  to  eat,  but  because  it  holds 
the  seeds  of  the  apple  tree. 

And  for  this  same  reason  the  pear  is  a  fruit.  It  is 
the  case  in  which  is  laid  the  seedbox  of  the  pear  tree. 
This  case,  when  ripe,  happens  to  be  juicy  and  delicious ; 
but  it  would  be  quite  as  much  a  fruit  if  it  were  dry  and 
hard,  and  without  taste. 

And  so  the  rose  hip  is  a  fruit,  because  it  is  the  case 
which  holds  the  little  seedboxes  of  the  rose  flower. 
What  is  the  fruit  of  the  milkweed  ? 
All  country  children  know  the  milkweed  plant,  with 
its  big  bright  leaves,   and  bunches  of  pink  or  red  or 


35 


Fig.  17 


purple  flowers   (Fig.    17).      And   you   know   the  puff) 
pods  that  later  split 
open,  letting  out  a 
mass     of     brown, 
silky-tailed   seeds. 
There  !        I      have 
given  the  answer  to  my 
own  question  ;  for  if  the 
plant's    fruit  is   the  seed- 
holding  part,  then  the  milk- 
weed's fruit  must  be  this  pod 
stuffed  full  of  beautiful,  fairy- 
like seeds. 
Then  you  know  the  burdock  (Fig.  18) 
which  grows   along  the   country  road. 
But  perhaps  you  do  not  know  that 
fruit  of  this  is  the  prickly 
>urr  which  hooks  itself  to  your  clothes  on 
your  way  to  school.     This  burr  (Fig.  19) 
is  the  case  which  holds  the  little  seeds 
of  the  burdock,  and  so  it  must         ...^ 
be  its  fruit. 

The  fruit  of  the  dandelion 
is  the  silvery  puffball  (Fig. 
20)  or  "  clock,"  by  blowing  at 
which  you  try  to  tell  the  time  of  day. 
If  you  pull  off  one  of  the  feathery 
objects  which  go  to  make  up  the 
puffball,  at  its  lower  end  you  see  a 
little  dandelion  seedbox  (Fig.  21). 
And  these  fall  days,  along  the  roadsides  and  in  the 


Fig.  i; 


Fig.  20 


Fig.  21 


36 


woods,  everywhere  you  see  fruits  which  you 
will  hardly  know  as  such  unless  you  keep  in 
mind  the  true  meaning  of  the  word. 

Many  of  these  lam  sure  you  would  not  care 
to  eat.  The  burr  from  the  burdock  would 
not  make  a  pleasant  mouthful.  Neither 
would  you  like  to  breakfast  on  a  milkweed  pod.  And 
a  quantity  of  dandelion  puffballs  would  hardly  add  to 
the  enjoyment  of  your  supper. 

If  you  should  tell  your  mother  you  had  brought  her 
some  fruit,  and  should  show  her  a  basket  of  burrs  and 
pods,  she  would  think  you  were  only  joking,  and  per- 
haps a  little  foolish ;  and  I  dare  say  she  would  be 
greatly  surprised  to  find  you  were  using  the  word  quite 
rightly. 


MORE    COUSINS    OF    THE   APPLE 


Fig.  22 


THE  apple  has  three  cousins, 
all  of  whom  are  very  much 
alike.  These  cousins  are  the 
cherry,  the  plum,  and  the  peach 
(Figs.  22,  23,  24).  All  three  be- 
long to  the  Rose  family. 

Have  you  ever  noticed  the  great 
family  likeness  between  these  three 
fruits  ? 

Look  at  them  in  the  pictures.  To 
be  sure,  they  are  of  different  sizes, 
but  they  are  almost  alike  in  shape. 


37 


Fig.  23 


Fig.  24 


And  if  you  should  cut  them  open  lengthwise, 
right  through  the  stony  center,  all  three  would 
look  much  like  the  next  picture,  which  is  taken 
from  a  peach  (Fig.  25).  All  these  fruits  have 
the  soft  outer  part  which  you 
find  so  pleasant  to  the  taste. 

Within  this,  in  all  of  them,  is 
a  hard  object,  which  we  call  the 
stone  or  pit ;  and   inside   this   stone   or 
pit,  in  each  case,  lies  the  seed. 

These   next    pictures   show    you    two 
views  of  the  flower  of  the  cherry  (Figs. 
26,  27). 
Here  you  see  a  likeness  to  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Rose  family,  to  the  blossoms 
of  the  apple  and  the  pear. 

You  see  that  the  green  cup  is  cut  into 
five  little  leaves  (in  the  picture  these  are 
turned  back  and  down- 
ward). You  see  also  the 
five  white  flower  leaves,  and  ever  so 
many  of  the  pins  with  dust  boxes. 
But  you  find  only 
one  of  those  pins 
without  dust  boxes ; 
and  this,  as  you  now 
seedbox  below, 
is  all  right.  The 
cherry  blossom  has  but  one  of  these 
pins,  and  the  flowers  of  the  peach 
and  of  the  plum  have  only  one.  Fig.  27 


Fig.  2: 


know,   has   a 
Well,   that 


38 

Figure  28  shows  you  a  cherry  blossom  cut  open. 
Here  you  see  plainly  the  single  pin  with  a  seedbox. 

This  seedbox  with  its  case  is  what  grows  into  the 
cherry.  The  white  flower  leaves,  and  the  pins  with 
dust  boxes,  fall  away.  In  the  cherry  flower  the  green 
cup  also  disappears,  instead  of  making  the  best  part  of 
the  fruit,  as  it  does  with  the  apple  and  the  pear.  And 
the  upper  part  of  the  seedbox  pin  withers 
off ;  but  the  seedbox  below  grows  juicy  and 
ripe  and  red,  at  least  its  outer  case  does. 

By  the  end  of  June  you  take  out  the  long 

ladder  and  place  it  against  the  cherry  tree. 

Seating  yourself  on  one  of  its  upper  rungs, 

you   swallow  the   outside  of  the  shining  little  ball  we 

call  the  cherry,  letting  the  stony  seedbox  inside  drop 

down  upon  the  ground,  where  all  ripe  seeds  belong. 

The  story  of  the  plum  and  of  the  peach  is  almost  the 
same  as  the  story  of  the  cherry.  If  you  understand 
how  the  single  seedbox  of  the  cherry  blossom  turns 
into  the  cherry  fruit,  then  you  understand  how  the  same 
thing  happens  with  the  single  seedboxes  of  the  plum 
and  the  peach  blossom. 

You  know  that  in  the  flowers  of  the  pear  and  the  apple 
there  were  several  of  these  pins  without  dust  boxes  ;  and 
although  these  were  joined  below  into  a  single  seedbox, 
this  had  separate  compartments  for  the  many  seeds. 

But  the  single  seedboxes  of  the  cherry,  the  plum,  and 
the  peach,  have  but  one  hollow.  Usually  in  this  hollow 
we  find  only  one  seed.  So  you  see  that  these  three 
fruits  make  a  little  group  by  themselves  because  of 
their  great  likeness  to  one  another. 


39 


STILL    MORE    COUSINS 


HERRI ES  and  plums  we  find 
growing    wild    in    the    woods 
and  fields.   While  in  many 
ways  the  wild  trees  are 
unlike  those  we  grow  in 
our    orchards,    yet,    if    you    look 
closely  at  their  flowers  and  fruits, 
you  will  find  they  answer  generally  to  the 
Fig.  29       descriptions  you  have  been  reading. 

Early  in  May,  when  the  orchard  is  still  gray  and 
dreary,  suddenly  we  notice  that  the  upper  branches  of 
the  cherry  tree  look  as  though  a  light  snow  had  fallen. 
It  seems  as  if  the  lovely  blossoms  had  burst  forth  in 
an  hour.  One's  heart  gives  a  joyful  jump.  Summer 
is  really  coming.  The  flowers  of  May  promise  the  fruit 
of  June. 

But  when  we  find  the  blossoms  of  the  wild  cherry,  it 
is  several  weeks  later.  Some  of  the  little  wood  flowers 
have  already  come  and  gone.  The  trees  are  thick  with 
leaves  before  we  discover  the  fragrance  of  its  slender, 
drooping  clusters;  for,  though  in  other  ways  these 
blossoms  are  almost  exactly  like  those  of  the  cultivated 
cherry,  they  are  much  smaller,  and  grow  differently  on 
the  branches. 

This  same  difference  in  size  and  manner  of  growing 
you  will  find  between  the  wild  and  the  cultivated  fruits. 
You  country  children  know  well  the  little  chokecherries 
(Fig.  29)  that  are  so  pretty  and  so  plentiful  along  the 


40 


lanes.  These  hang  in  bunches  that  remind  you  some- 
what of  the  clusters  of  the  currant.  They  are  much 
smaller  than  the  market  cherry ;  yet  if  you  cut  one 
through,  you  will  see  that  in  make-up  it  is  almost  ex- 
actly like  its  big  sister. 

Those  of  you  who  live  near  the  sea  find  wild  beach 
plums  (Fig.  30)  growing  thickly  along  the  sand  hills. 

These  are  hardly  larger 
than  good-sized  grapes; 
yet  if  you  cut  them 
open,  you  see  that  they 
are  really  plums. 

In  our  woods  and 
fields  we  do  not  find 
any  wild  peaches.  The 
peach  was  brought  to 
us  from  far-away  Persia. 
Only  in  the  garden  and 
orchard  do  we  meet  its  beautiful  pink  blossoms.  To 
see  these  growing  naturally  we  must  go  to  their  Persian 
home. 

So,  while  we  remember  that  the  cherry,  the  plum, 
and  the  peach  belong  to  one  little  group  because  of 
their  likeness  to  one  another,  let  us  not  forget  that 
the  peach  is  one  of  the  foreign  members  of  the  Rose 
family. 


Fig. 


4i 


IN    THE   WOODS 

WHAT  do  you  say  this  morning  to  going  to  the 
woods  rather  than  to  either  garden  or  orchard  ? 

Not  that  I  am  ready  to  take  back  anything  I  said  at 
the  beginning  of  this  book  about  the  delights  of  the 
orchard  as  a  playground.  For  actual  play  I  know  of 
no  better  place.  An  apple  tree  is  as  good  a  horse  as  it 
is  a  house,  as  good  a  ship  as  it  is  a  mountain.  Other 
trees  may  be  taller,  finer  to  look  at,  more  exciting  to 
climb;  but  they  do  not  know  how  to  fit  themselves  to 
the  need  of  the  moment  as  does  an  apple  tree. 

But  for  anything  besides  play,  the  woods,  the  real 
woods,  are  even  better  than  the  orchard.  The  truth  is, 
in  the  woods  you  have  such  a  good  time  just  living,  that 
you  hardly  need  to  play;  at  least  you  do  if  you  are 
made  in  the  right  way. 

So  now  we  are  off  for  the  woods.  We  have  only  to 
cross  a  field  and  climb  a  fence,  and  we  are  in  the  lane 
which  leads  where  we  wish  to  go. 

Through  the  trees  comes  a  golden  light.  This  is 
made  partly  by  the  sunshine,  but  mostly  by  the  leaves 
turned  yellow.  These  yellow  leaves  mean  that  summer 
is  over.  It  is  in  summer,  when  we  are  having  our 
vacation,  that  the  leaves  work  hardest;  for  leaves  have 
work  to  do,  as  we  shall  learn  later.  But  now  they  are 
taking  a  rest,  and  wearing  their  holiday  colors. 

Twisting  in  and  out  over  the  rails  of  the  fence  are 
clusters  of  berries  which  are  very  beautiful  when  you 
look  at  them  closely.     Each  berry  is  an  orange-colored 


42 


Fig.  31 


case  which  opens  so  as  to  show  a  scarlet  seedbox  within 
(Fig.   31).     A  little  earlier  in  the  year  you  could  not 

see  this  bright-colored 
seedbox.  It  is  only  a 
short  time  since  the 
outer  case  opened  and 
displayed  its  contents. 
These  are  the  berries 
of  the  bittersweet.  Last  June  you 
would  hardly  have  noticed  its  little 
greenish  flowers,  and  would  have 
been  surprised  to  learn  that  they 
could  change  into  such  gay  fruit. 
Do  you  see  a  shrub  close  by  covered  with  berries? 
These  berries  are  dark  blue.  They  grow  on  bright-red 
stalks.  If  we  wait  here  long 
enough,  it  is  likely  that  we  shall 
see  the  birds  alight  upon  some  uppt 
twig  and  make  their  dinner  on  tr 
dogwood  berries;  for  this  is  one  of  the 
Dogwood  family,  —  the  red-stalked  dog- 
wood, we  call  it  (Fig.  32).  When  its  ber- 
ries turn  a  very  dark  blue,  then  the  birds 
know  they  are  ready  to  be  eaten,  just  as 
we  know  the  same  thing  by  the  rosy 
cheeks  of  the  apple. 

You  can  be  pretty  sure  that  any  fruit  so 
gayly  colored  as  to  make  us  look  at  it 
twice,  is  trying  to  persuade  some  one  —  some  boy  or 
girl,  or  bird,  or  perhaps  even  some  bear  —  to  come  and 
eat  it. 


Fig.  32 


43 

You  have  not  forgotten,  I  hope,  why  these  fruits  are 
so  anxious  to  be  eaten  ?  You  remember  that  when  their 
seeds  become  ripe,  and  ready  to  make  new  plants,  then 
they  put  on  bright  colors  that  say  for  them,  "Come 
and  eat  us,  for  our  little  seeds  want  to  get  out  of  their 
prison  !  " 

Once  upon  a  time  these  seeds  did  not  find  their  cozy 
seed  cases  a  prison.  So  once  upon  a  time  the  baby 
robins  were  content  to  stay  safe  in  their  nest.  And 
once  upon  a  time  all  the  playground  you  needed  was 
a  little  corner  behind  your  mother's  chair.  But  seeds, 
like  birds  and  babies,  outgrow  their  surroundings,  and 
need  more  room. 

Here  is  a  tall  shrub  with  bright-colored  leaves,  and 
clusters  of    dark  red  fruit  that  grow    high  above   our 
heads  (Fig.  33).     It  looks  something  like  certain  mate- 
rials used   in   fancywork.      This  shrub   is   called  the 
sumac ;  and  if  you  pick   and  pull  apart  one  of  its 
fruit  clusters,  you  find  that  it  is  made  up  of  a 
quantity  of  seeds  that  are  covered  with  little 
red  hairs.     There  is  nothing  soft  and  juicy 
about  the  fruit  of  the  sumac.     Whether  it  is 
ever  used    as    food  by   the   birds,    I   do   not 
know.     I  wish  some  child  would  make  it  his 
business  to  find  out  about  this.     Some  of  you 
are  sure  to  live  near  a  clump  of  sumacs.     By 
watching  them  closely  for  a  few  weeks,  you 
ought   to   discover  if  any  birds   feed   upon   their  fruit. 

If  you  do  make  any  such  discovery,  I  hope  you  will 
write  a  letter  telling  me  of  it ;  and  then,  if  another  edition 
of  this  book  is  published,  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  other  chil- 


44 


dren  more  about  the  fruit  of  the  sumac  than  I  can  tell 
you  to-day. 

There  are  many  interesting  things  about  plants  yet  to 
be  found  out ;  and  you  children  will  find  it  far  pleasanter 
to  make  your  own  discoveries,  using  your  own  bright 
eyes,  than  to  read  about  the  discoveries  of  other  people. 
Every  field,  each  bit  of  woods,  the  road  we  know  so 
well  leading  from  home  to  the  schoolhouse,  and  even 
the  city  squares  and  parks,  are  full  of  interesting  things 
that  as  yet  we  have  never  seen,  even  though  we  may 
have  been  over  the  ground  a  hundred  times  before. 

Now  let  us  leave  the  lane,  and  strike  into  the  woods 
in  search  of   new  fruits.     This   morning  we  will  look 
especially  for  those  fruits   which  by 
their  bright  colors  and  pleasant  looks 
seem  to  be  calling  out  to  whomsoever 
it  may  concern,  "Come  and  eat  us!" 
Close  at  hand  is  one  of  our  prettiest 
plants.      Its    leaves    look    as    though 
they  were  trying  to  be  in  the  height 
of  the  fall  fashion,  and  to  outdo  even 
the    trees    in    brightness    of 
color.     These  leaves  are  set 
in  circles  about  the  slim  stem. 
From  the  top  of  this  grow  some  pur- 
ple berries  (Fig.  34). 

This  plant  is  the  Indian  cucumber 
root.     If  one  of  you  boys  will  dig  it 
up  with  your  knife,  you  will  find  that 
a  little   like   a   cucumber.     Though 
I   have  never  made  the  experiment  myself,   I   am  told 


Fig.  34 
its  root  is   shaped 


45 

that  it  tastes  something  like  the  cucumber.  It  is  possi- 
ble, that,  as  its  name  suggests,  it  was  used  as  food  by 
the  Indians.  To  hunt  up  the  beginnings  of  plant  names 
is  often  amusing.  So  many  of  these  are  Indian,  that  in 
our  rambles  through  the  woods  we  are  constantly  re- 
minded of  the  days  when  the  red  man  was  finding  his 
chief  support  in  their  plants  and  animals. 

In  June  we  find  the  flower  of  the  Indian  cucumber 
root.  This  is  a  little  yellowish  blossom,  one  of  the  Lily 
family.  Small  though  it  is,  for  one  who  knows  some- 
thing of  botany  it  is  easy  to  recognize  it  as  a  lily. 
Indeed,  the  look  of  the  plant  suggests  the  wood  and 
meadow  lilies.  This  is  partly  because  of  the  way  in 
which  the  leaves  grow  about  its  stem,  much  as  they  do 
in  these  other  lilies. 

Now  look  at  the  beautiful  carpet  which  is  spread 
beneath  your  feet.  Here  you  will  wish  to  step  very 
lightly ;  for  otherwise  you  might  crush  some  of  those 
bright  red  berries  which  are  set  thickly  among  the  little 
white-veined  leaves. 

These  are  called  "  partridge  berries,"  —  a  name  given 
them  because  they  are  eaten  by  partridges.  But  the 
bare  winter  woods  offer  few  tempting  morsels  for  bird 
meals ;  and  it  seems  likely  that  the  nuthatch  and  snow- 
bird, the  chickadee  and  winter  wren,  hail  with  delight 
these  bright  berries,  and  share  with  the  partridges  the 
welcome  feast. 

Please  look  closely  at  one  of  the  berries  in  Fig.  35, 
and  tell  me  whether  you  see  anything  unusual. 

"There  are  two  little  holes  on  top." 

Yes,  that  is  just  what  I  hoped  you  would  notice.      I 


46 


do  not  know  of  any  other  berries  in  which  you  could 
find  these  two  little  holes  ;  and  as  I  do  not  believe  it 
would  be  possible  for  you  to  guess  what  made  these 
holes,  I  will  tell  you  about  them. 

The  flowers  of  the  partridge  vine  always  grow  in 
twos.  The  seedboxes  of  these  two  flowers  are  joined 
in  one.  So  when  the  flowers  fade  away,  only  the  one 
seedbox  is  left.  When  this  ripens,  it  becomes  the 
partridge  berry ;  and  the  two  little  holes  show  where 
the  two  flowers  were  fastened  to  the  seedbox. 

Try  not  to  forget  this,  and  early  next  July  be  sure  to 
go  to  the  woods  and  look  for  the  little  sister  flowers. 
Perhaps  their  delicious  fragrance  will  help  you  in  your 
hunt  for  their  hiding  place.  Then  see  for  yourselves 
how  the  two  blossoms  have  but  one  seedbox  between 
them  (Fig.  35). 


47 


i  lis 
Fig.  36 


Now,  we  must  take  care  not  to  wet  our  feet,  for  the 
ground  is  getting  damp.     We  are  coming  to  that  lovely 
spot  where  the  brook  winds  beneath  the  hemlocks  after 
making  its  leap  down  the  rocks.     What  is  that 
flaming  red  spot  against  the  gray  rock  yonder  ? 
As  we  draw  nearer,  we  see  that  a  quantity  of 
scarlet  berries  are  closely  packed  upon  a  thick 
stalk  (Fig.  36). 

Do  you  know  the  name  of  the  plant  which 
owns  this  flaming  fruit  ? 

If  you  were  in  these  woods  last  May,  at 
every  turn  you  met  one  of  those  quaint  little 
fellows  we  call  "  Jack-in-the-pulpit." 

Jack    himself,    you    remember,    was    hidden 
almost  out  of  sight  by  his  "pulpit."     This  pulpit  was 
made  of  a  leaf  striped  green  or  purple,  or  both ;   and 
this  leaf  curled  about  and  above  Jack  (Fig.  37). 
After  a  time  the  pretty  leaf  pulpit  faded  away,  and 
Jack  was  left  standing  all  alone. 

The  lower  part  of  Jack  is  covered  with  tiny 
flowers.  After  these  had  been  properly  dusted 
by  the  little  flies  (for  flies,  not  bees,  visit  Jack), 
just  as  the  apple  blossom  began  to  change  into 
the  apple,  so  these  tiny  flowers  began  to  turn 
into  bright  berries. 

While  this  was  happening,  Jack's  upper  part 
began  to  wither  away ;  and  at  last  all  of  it  that 
was  left  was  the  queer  little  tail  which  you  see 
at  the  top  of  the  bunch  of  berries. 
It  is  said  that  the  Indians  boiled  these  berries,  and 
then  thought  them  very  good  to  eat. 


Fig.  37 


48 


Fig.  38 


If  we  were  lost  in  the  woods,  and  obliged  to  live 
upon  the  plants  about  us,  I  dare  say  we  should  eat, 
and    perhaps   enjoy   eating,    many    things    which    now 

seem  quite  impossible ; 
but  until  this  happens  I 
advise  you  not  to  ex- 
periment with  strange 
leaves  and  roots  and  ber- 
ries. Every  little  while 
one  reads  of  the  death 
of  some  child  as  the  re- 
sult of  eating  a  poisonous 
plant. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  38)  shows  you  the  fruit  of 
Solomon's  seal.  These  dark-blue  berries  hang  from 
beneath  the  leafy  stem,  just  as  the  little  flowers  hung 
their  yellow  heads  last  May. 

Next  come  the  speckled  red  berries  of  the  false  Solo- 
mon's seal  (Fig.  39),  a  big  cousin  of  the  smaller  plant. 
As  you  see,  this  bears  its  fruit  quite  differently,  all  in  a 
cluster   at    the  upper   part   of  the 
stem.     These  two  plants  seem  to 
be  great  chums,  constantly  grow- 
ing side  by  side. 

We  have   been   so   busy  and   so 
happy  that  the  morning  has  flown, 

and  now  we   must  be  finding  our 

.  Fig.  39 

way  home   to  dinner ;    for,  unlike 

the  birds,  we  are  not  satisfied  to  dine  on  berries  alone. 

At   almost  every  step  we   long  to   stop  and  look   at 

some  new  plant  in  fruit ;  for,  now  that  we  have  learned 


49 


Fig.  40 


how  to  look  for  them,  berries  of  different  sorts 
seem  thick  on  every  side. 

Low  at  our  feet  are  the  red  ones 
of  the  wintergreen  (Fig.  40). 

On   taller   plants   grow  the   odd 
white  ones,  with  blackish  spots,  of 
the  white  baneberry  (Fig.  41),   or 
the  red  ones  of  the  red  baneberry. 
Still    higher    glisten   the    dark, 
glass-like  clusters  of  the  spikenard 
Along  the  lane  are  glowing  barberries  (Fig. 
42)  and  thorns  bright  with  their  "  haws  "  (for 
the  fruit  of  the   thorn   is   called   a  "haw"). 
These  look  something  like  little  apples. 

Here,  too,  is  the  black  alder,  studded  with 
its  red,  waxy  beads.  But  we  must  hurry 
on,  not  stopping  by  the  way.  And  you 
can  be  sure  that  those  birds  we  hear  chirrup- 
ing above  us  are  glad  enough  to  be  left  to 
finish  their  dinner  in  peace. 


Fig.  42 


DANA  S    PLANTS. 


50 


WHY    SEEDS    TRAVEL 

AT  last  I  think  we  all  understand  that  by  the  red  of 
the  apple,  the  purple  of  the  plum,  and  the  dif- 
ferent colors  worn  by  the  berries  we  find  in  the  woods, 
these  plants  are  inviting  us,  and  the  birds  also,  to  eat 
their  fruit,  and  so  release  from  prison  their  little  seeds. 

But  what  would  happen,  do  you  suppose,  if  no  one 
should  accept  this  invitation  ?  What  would  become  of 
their  seeds  if  these  pears  and  apples  and  berries  were 
not  eaten  by  boys  and  girls  and  birds  ? 

Most  of  this  question  you  can  answer  for  yourselves. 

If  you  leave  the  apple  on  the  tree,  after  a  time  it 
falls  off  upon  the  ground ;  and  unless  picked  up,  there 
it  lies  till  it  decays.  In  the  orchard  every  fall  you  see 
apples  decaying  on  the  ground.  In  a  little  while  the 
fleshy  part  disappears,  and  the  little  seeds  are  thus  let 
out  of  prison  without  help. 

But  many  plants  are  not  satisfied  to  leave  their  seeds 
so  near  home.     Why  is  this,  do  you  suppose  ? 

Well,  this  is  quite  a  long  story. 

All  plants  of  the  same  kind  need  just  the  same  sort 
of  food.  If  too  many  apple  trees  grow  together,  they 
soon  use  up  all  the  apple-tree  food  in  the  neighborhood. 

So  if  a  seed  is  to  grow  into  a  strong,  hearty,  well-fed 
plant,  it  ought  to  begin  life  in  some  place  not  already 
full  of  plants  in  search  of  just  the  food  that  it  needs  for 
itself. 

If  a  plant  or  tree  makes  its  fruit  so  good  to  eat  that 
some  boy  or  girl  or  bird  is  likely  to  pick  it,  the  chances 


5i 

are  that  it  will  be  carried  at  least  a  short  distance  before 
its  seeds  are  dropped  upon  the  ground. 

Once  in  a  while  a  plant  is  rewarded  for  its  pains  by 
having  its  young  carried  thousands  of  miles. 

Think  how  far  from  its  home  the  peach  has  traveled. 
As  I  told  you  before,  it  comes  to  us  from  Persia. 

Now,  if  the  Persian  peach  tree  had  not  made  its  fruit 
very  juicy  and  delicious,  it  is  not  likely  that  any  one 
would  have  taken  the  trouble  to  bring  its  seeds  way  over 
here  to  us. 

But  this  peach  being  what  it  is,  one  of  the  most  deli- 
cious of  fruits,  the  tree  was  rewarded  for  its  pains  by 
having  its  children  taken  where  they  were  petted,  and 
made  much  of,  and  had  things  all  their  own  way ;  for 
no  other  peach  trees  were  on  hand  to  do  their  best  to 
crowd  them  out. 

Then  think  of  the  little  partridge  berry.  The  fleshy 
part  of  this  the  birds  eat  and  digest.  But  the  little 
seeds  pass  unharmed  from  the  bird's  stomach  to  the 
earth,  sometimes  many  miles  from  the  woods  where 
they  were  born. 

What  is  true  of  the  peach  and  of  the  partridge  berry 
is  true  of  many  other  fruits. 

Without  the  help  of  man  or  bird  or  beast,  these  little 
seeds  could  at  last  get  out  of  their  seed  cases;  but 
without  such  help,  often  they  could  not  get  the  start  in 
life  they  need. 

So  it  would  seem  as  if  a  fruit's  bright  color  and  de- 
licious flavor  were  saying  to  us  not  only,  "  Come  and  eat 
us  and  set  our  seeds  free,"  but  also,  "and  carry  us  far 
away,  so  that  we  may  have  a  fair  chance  in  the  world." 


52 


SOME    LITTLE    TRAMPS 


Fig.  43 


WHEN  I  came  home  from  that  walk  in  the  woods 
the  other  day,  it  took  me  some  time  to  rid  my 
clothes  of  many  odd-looking  little  things,  such  as  you 
see  in  the  picture  above  (Fig.  43). 

This  round  burr  (Fig.  44)  was  one  of  the  worst  of  my 
hangers-on.     You  know  it  quite  well.      It  is  the  fruit  of 
the  burdock.     Can   some   child  tell  me  why  I 
call  this  prickly  burr  a  fruit  ? 

Now  let  us  look  carefully  at  this  seed  case  or 
fruit  of  the  burdock. 

Instead  of  being  smooth  to  the  touch,  like 
some  other  fruits  we  know,  such  as  the  apple  and  the 
pear,  it  is  covered  with  stiff  hooks.  By  these  hooks  it 
fastened  itself  so  firmly  to  my  clothes,  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  pull  it  off  without  making  a  tear. 

Why    does    the    burdock    put   its   seeds   into   such   a 
prickly  case  ? 

Please  stop  reading  for  a  moment  and  try  to  answer 
this  question. 

Cudgel  well  your  brains  for  the  use  of  such  a  prickly 
seed  case  as  that  of  the  burdock  plant. 


53 

Now  I  am  hoping  that  one  of  you  children  will  be 
able  to  think  out  some  such  answer  as  this :  — 

"  Of  course,  the  burdock  plant  doesn't  want  its  seeds 
to  fall  on  the  piece  of  ground  that  has  been  used  up 
already  by  other  burdocks,  any  more  than  the  partridge 
vine  wishes  to  drop  its  seeds  in  the  same  little  hollow 
where  other  partridge  vines  have  eaten  all  the  good 
food.  As  this  burdock  plant  cannot  make  its  seed 
case  so  bright  and  pretty,  and  good  to  eat,  that  the 
birds  will  carry  it  off,  it  must  manage  in  some  other 
way  to  send  its  seeds  on  their  travels.  And  this  is 
what  it  does :  it  covers  the  seed  case  with  little  hooks. 
When  the  seeds  inside  are  quite  ripe,  this  case  breaks 
off  very  easily.  So  when  the  children  come  hunting 
berries,  it  hooks  itself  to  their  clothes,  or  else  it  catches 
in  the  hair  of  their  dogs,  or  takes  hold  of  the  wool  of 
grazing  sheep,  and  gets  carried  quite  a  way  before  it 
is  picked  or  rubbed  off.  When  that  happens,  it  is  far 
enough  from  its  old  home  to  set  up  for  itself." 

I  should  indeed  be  pleased  if  one  of  you  children 
could  give  me  some  such  answer  as  that. 

So  you  see  this  prickly  seed  case  does  just  as  much 
for  its  little  charges  as  the  juicy  apple  and  velvety 
peach  do  for  theirs. 

And  the  same  thing  is  true  of  all  those  other  hooked, 
or  barbed,  or  prickly  little  objects  that  I  picked  off  my 
clothes  the  other  day,  and  that  cling  to  you  when  you 
take  a  walk  in  the  fall  woods. 

They  are  all  fruits.  They  are  the  ripe  seed  cases  of 
the  different  plants. 

But   they   are   dull-looking,    and   often   quite   vexing, 


54 

instead   of  being   pleasant  to  the   sight  and  taste  and 
touch. 

This  makes  no  difference,  however,  in  their  having 
things  pretty  much  their  own  way.  We  do  not  in  the 
least  want  to  carry  abroad  these  little  torments,  scatter- 
ing far  and  wide  their  seeds,  so  that  another  year  there 
will  be  more  burrs  and  barbs  and  bristles  than  ever,  to 
tear  our  clothes  and  worry  our/dogs;  but  they  force  us 
to  do  them  this  service,  whether  we  will  or  no,  and 
never  stop  to  say  "  By  your  leave." 

At  every  turn  they  are  waiting  for  us.  Where  we 
climb  the  fence,  and  cross  the  fields,  and  break  through 
the  woods,  we  can  almost  fancy  that  we  hear  them 
whispering  together,  "Here  they  come!  Now  is  our 
chance !  " 

They  remind  us  of  those  lazy  tramps  that  lie  along 
the  railway,  getting  on  the  trucks  of  passing  trains,  and 
stealing  rides  across  the  country. 

These  ugly  hooked  fruits  have  one  great  advantage 
over  the  pretty  ones  that  are  good  to  eat.  They  do  not 
have  to  wait  our  pleasure.  But  when  we  are  most 
busy  and  hurried,  without  a  moment  to  loiter  in  the 
apple  orchard  or  among  the  berry  bushes,  then,  quite 
as  well  as,  if  not  better  than,  during  our  leisure 
moments,  they  lay  hold  upon  us  with  their  tiny  claws, 
and  cling  closely  till  we  set  to  work  to  get  rid  of  them. 
When  we  pick  them  off  and  fling  them  to  the  ground, 
we  are  doing  just  what  they  most  wish. 
Fig.  45  In  this  picture  (Fig.  45)  you  see  the  seed  case  of 
the  tick  trefoil.  This  plant  belongs  to  the  Pea  family ; 
and  its  fruit  is  really  a  pod,  something  like  that  of  the 


55 

garden  pea.  But  when  this  pod  of  the  tick  trefoil  is 
ripe,  it  splits  into  five  little  pieces.  Each  piece  is  a 
separate  seed  case.  This  is  covered  with  hooked 
hairs,  by  means  of  which  it  fastens  itself  to  our 
clothing  and  to  the  hair  of  animals,  just  as  the 
burr  of  the  burdock  did.  These  little  seed  cases 
go  by  the  name  of  "ticks." 

Here  is  the   fruit   of  the   stick-tight  (Fig.  46). 
You  see  its  two  teeth  that  are  so  well  fitted  to  weave 
themselves  into  either  cloth  or  hair. 

Fig.  47  shows  you  a  strange  and  terrible  fruit  of  this 
same  class.  It  grows  on  an 
African  plant,  and  may  fasten 
itself  so  firmly  into  the  hair 
of  animals,  that  the  attempt 
to  get  it  out  is  almost  hope- 
less. Sometimes  an  unfortu- 
nate lion  will  kill  himself  in 
his  efforts  to  wrench  this 
tormenting    seed    case   from  ' 

his  skin.      In  his  struggles  he  gets  it  into  his  mouth, 
and  so  dies. 

I  am  glad  to  say  we  have  nothing  so  terrifying  as 
this  among  our  hooked  fruits. 

Even  if  at  times  you  are  tempted  to  lose  your  patience 
with  such  impertinent  little  tramps  as  they  are,  I  think 
you  can  hardly  help  admiring  the  clever  way  in  which 
they  manage  to  get  a  free  ride. 


M'/t 


o 


SEED    SAILBOATS 

N  your  way  to  school  these  fall  days,  often 
you  notice  certain  white,  silky  things 
floating  lazily  through  the  air.  Sometimes  you 
catch  one  of  these  little  objects,  and  blow  it 
away  again  with  a  message  to  a  friend.  Or  per- 
haps you  wish  upon  it.  At  least,  this  is  what  I 
did  as  a  child.  Life  in  those  days  was  full  of 
these  mysterious  "wishes."  A  white  horse,  a 
hay  cart,  the  first  star,  a  wandering  thistle 
down,  —  each  promised  the  possible  granting 
of   one's  most  secret  wish. 

That  the  thistle  down  comes  from  the  thistle 
plant,  you  know.  But  not  all  the  silky  things 
that  look  like  fairy  sailboats  are  thistle  down, 
for  many  plants  beside  the  thistle  let  loose  these 
tiny  air  ships. 
Have  you  ever  wondered  where  they  come  from, 
what  they  are  doing  ?  Or  do  they  seem  to  you  so  lazy, 
so  drifting,  so  aimless,  that  you  doubt  if  they  are  going 
anywhere  in  particular,  or  have  really  anything  to  do  ? 

But  by  this  time  you  have  learned  that  plants  have 
better  reasons  for  their  actions  than  you  had  dreamed 
before  you  began  to  pay  them  some   attention.      You 

56 


57 

have  discovered  that  they  dress  their 
flowers  in  gay  colors  so  that  the  bees 
may  be  tempted  to  visit  them  and  pow- 
der them  with  golden  dust.  You  have 
learned  that  they  make  their  fruits  juicy 
and  delicious  so  that  boys  and  girls  and 
birds  may  be  persuaded  to  carry  off  their  seeds ;  and 
the  better  you  know  them,  the  more  certain  you  feel 
that  they  manage  their  affairs  with  much  common  sense, 
that  they  are  not  likely  to  take  time  and  trouble  for 
nothing. 

So  let  us  look  closely  at  some  of  these  air  ships,  and 
try  to  guess  their  errand. 

I  hope  that  some  time  ago  you  were  told  to  get  together 
as  many  different  kinds  as  you 
could    find,    and    to   bring   them 

/^    vMp(l!  m\\rk^-      nere  tnis  morning. 

In  this  picture  you  see  some  of 
the    air   ships    of    the   milkweed 
(Fig.  49> 
The  lower  part  of  Fig.  48  is  a  seed- 
box  of  the  milkweed.       To    this    are 
fastened  the  silky  threads  which  make 
the   sail  that  carries  the  seed  through 
the  air  with  the  least  wind,  just  as  the 
canvas  sail  carries  the  boat  across  the  water. 
Can  you  think  of   some  other  plants  that 
send  abroad  seed  sailboats  ? 
Perhaps  some  of  you  remember  the  beauti- 
ful pink  or  purple   flowers   which   grew   last 
summer  in  tall  spikes  along  the  road  and  up  the  moun- 


i 


Fig.  49 


58 


tain  side.  These  were  borne  upon  a  plant  called  some- 
times nreweed  and  again  willow  herb  (Fig.  50).  The 
first  name  was  given  to  it  because  it  grows  freely 
in  places  that  have  been  laid  waste  by 
fire.  The  latter  one  it  owes  to  its 
leaves,  which  look  somewhat  like 
those  of  the  willow. 

By  the  end  of  August  most 
of  these  beautiful  blossoms  had 
disappeared,    leaving    in    their 

place  the  fruit.      This  fruit  of 

the  nreweed  or  willow  herb  is 

a  long  pod  such  as  you  see  in 

the  picture  ( Fig.  5 1 ).   This  pod 

is  packed  full  of  seeds,  to  each   one   of 

which  is  fastened  a  silky  sail.     Finally  all 

these  pods  split  open,  letting  out  their  little 

*^—  air  ships  (Fig.  52),  and  giving  a  beautiful, 

feathery  look 


Fig.  51 


A 


Fig.  50 


to   the    great 


patches 
which  they  are  found. 
Another      plant 


m 


0 


which  fft* 
a  u  n  c  h  e  s      C-1 


E&v       Yj   the    cL 
^!  )    tis.     In 


Fig.  52 


air  ships  is 
clema- 
Au- 
g  u  s  t  its 
pretty  white 
blossoms 


Fig.  53 


Fig.  54 


clamber  over  the  stone  wall,  and  twist  about  the  bushes 


59 


and  trees,  making  the  lanes  very  lovely.     In  the  fall 

this  climber  is  almost  as  pretty  as  in  summer,  for  its 

fruit  clusters  (Fig.  53)  are 

made  of    such    long-tailed 

seeds   as  you  see   in   Fig. 

54.    When  these  open,  and 

float   away  with    the    first 

light    wind,   you    can    see 

how  well  their  little  sails 

are    fitted    to    catch     the 

breeze. 

In  October  and  Novem- 
ber nearly  every  roadside 

is  lined  with  clusters  such 

as  you  see  in  the  next  pic- 
ture, except  that  the  picture 

cannot     give     their     soft, 

velvety  look.  These  are  the  fruit 
clusters  of  the  golden-rod  (Fig. 
55),  made  up  of  quantities  of 
silky-tailed  seeds  such  as  you  see 
above  (Fig.  56). 

And  this  is  the  fruit  cluster  of 
the  aster  (Fig.  57).  Each  little 
puffball  is  composed  of  many 
aster  seeds  (Fig.  58). 

The  pasture  thistle  is  almost 
as  beautiful  in  fruit  as  in  flower. 
It  swells  up  into  a  great  silvery 

cushion,  which  finally  vanishes  in  a   cloud   of   floating 

thistle  down. 


Fig.  56 


FlG-  55 


Fig.  57 


Fig.  58 


6o 


And  here  is  the  fruit  cluster  of  the  dandelion  (Fig. 
59),  and  also  a  single  seed  sailboat  (Fig.  60). 

Hundreds  of  other  plants  attach  these 
ittle  sails  to  their  seeds.  You  can  hardly 
walk  a  step  in  the  fall  along  the  country 
roads  without  meeting  these  masses  of 
feathery  fruit  made  up  of  just  such  seeds. 
So  now  we  come  back  to  our 
questions,  "Where  are  they 
are  they  doing  ?  " 
have  learned  why  the  apple 
tridge  vine  pack  their 
cases,  and  why  the  bur- 
tight  cover  theirs  with 
vou  ought  to  answer 
these  questions  very  easily.  You  found  that  those  plants 
wished  to  send  their  little  seeds  abroad,  so  that  they 
might  get  a  better  foothold  in  some  piece  of  earth  that 
was  not  used  already  by  plants  hungry  for  the  very 
food  that  they  most  needed. 

This  is  just  what  the  thistle  and  milkweed  and  dande- 
lion and  aster  want  for  their  seeds ;  and  this  is  why 
they  fasten  them  to  little  sails,  and  send  them  far  away 
on  a  voyage  of  discovery. 


going  t 
And 
tree  ai.d  the  par- 
seeds     in     prettv 
dock  and  the  stick 
hooks  and  bristles 


Fig.  60 


bi 


WINGED    SEEDS 


Eig.  62 


ANY  of  the  trees  also  send  their  seeds 
on  air  voyages,  in  the  hope  of  finding 
some  piece  of  land  that  will  give  them  a  chance  to 
Pig.  61         grow  into  new,  strong  trees. 

The  seeds  of  the  willow  (Fig.  62) 
have  silky  white  sails  such  as  we  have 
found  already  in  the  plants  of  the  milk- 
weed and  willow  herb ;  and  the  cotton- 
wood  tree  is  so  called  because  its  tufted 

seeds  remind  one  of  the  famous  cotton 
seeds  from  which  we  get  our  cotton  thread 
(Fig.  63). 

There  are  other  trees  which  use  wings 
instead  of  sails  when  they  send  their  seeds 
flying  through  the  air. 

Here  you  have  the  winged  fruits  of  the 
maple  (Fig.  64).  In  summer  you  see  these  winged 
fruits  hanging  in  clus- 
ters from  the  trees;  and 
later  in  the  year  they 
are  thickly  scattered 
along  the  village  street 
and  in  the  city  squares. 

You  can  understand  FlG-  64 

how  easily  the  maple  seeds  inside  these  cases  would  be 
carried  upon  the  breeze  by  their  wings. 


¥1 


Fig.  63 


Fig.  65 


62 


Each  seed  of  the  elm  tree 
is  winged  nearly  all  the  way 
round.  The  picture  (Fig.  65) 
shows  you  a  cluster  of  these 
as   they   look    upon    the    tree. 

Here  is  a  bunch  of  the  long- 
winged  seeds  of  the  ash  (Fig. 
66).  Next  comes  a  fruit  cluster 
from  the  hop  hornbeam  (Fig. 
a    single 


Fig.  68 


Fig.  66 


67),    and    above   is 

fruit  (Fig.  68). 

The  seeds  of  the  pine  tree 

are  hidden  away  in  the  pine 

cone  (Fig.  69)  you  know  so 

well,  and  those  of  the  hem- 
lock  in    the    hemlock    cone 

(Fig.    61).       When  they  are 

quite  ripe,  they  break  away  from  these  cones.  In 
so  doing,  each  one  carries 
with  it  a  little  piece  of  the 
cone,  which  acts  as  a  wing- 
to  the  seed  (Fig.  70). 

Nearly  all  of  these  seeds 
you  can  find  for  yourselves 
when  you  wander  about  the 
country.  Indeed,  if  you  have 
eyes  that  are  good  for  any- 
thing, many  of  them  you  can- 
not help  seeing.  It  is  all 
very  well  to  read  about  these 
Fig.  67  plants  and  trees,  and  to  look 


Fig.  69 


Fig.  70 


63 

at  pictures  of  their  flowers  and  fruits,  and  to  have 
your  teacher  bring  into  the  schoolroom  specimens  for 
examination.  If  this  is  all  the  city  children  can  do 
(although  even  in  the  city  one  can  do  more  than  this), 
why,  surely  it  is  far  better  than  nothing. 

But  best  of  all  is  it  to  go  right  into  the  woods  and 
fields  where  these  strange,  interesting  creatures  are 
living,  and  to  see  for  yourselves  their  manners  and 
customs. 


SHOOTING   SEEDS 


OWN  by  the  brook  and  along  the 

sides  of  the  mountain  grows  a 

tall    shrub    which    is    called    the 

witch-hazel.     I  hope  some  of  you 

know  it  by  sight.     I  am  sure  that 

many  of  you/ know  its  name  on  account  of  the  extract 

which  is  applied  so  often  to  bruises  and  burns. 

This  picture  (Fig.  71)  shows  you  a  witch-hazel  branch 
bearing  both  flowers  and  fruit ;  for,  unlike  any  other 
plant  I  know,  the  flower  of  the  witch-hazel  appears  late 
in  the  fall,  when  its  little  nuts  are  almost  ripe.  These 
nuts  come  from  the  flowers  of  the  previous  year. 

It   is   always   to   me  a  fresh  surprise  and  delight  to 


64 

come  upon  these  golden  blossoms  when  wandering 
through  the  fall  woods. 

Often  the  shrub  has  lost  all  its  leaves  before  these 
appear.  You  almost  feel  as  if  the  yellow  flowers  had 
made  a  mistake,  and  had  come  out  six  months  ahead 
of  time,  fancying  it  to  be  April  instead  of  October. 
In  each  little  cluster  grow  several  blossoms,  with  flower 
leaves  so  long  and  narrow  that  they  look  like  waving 
yellow  ribbons. 

But  to-day  we  wish  chiefly  to  notice  the  fruit  or  nut 
of  the  witch-hazel. 

Now,  the  question  is,  how  does  the  witch-hazel  man- 
age to  send  the  seeds  which  lie  inside  this  nut  out  into 
the  world  ?  I  think  you  will  be  surprised  to  learn  just 
how  it  does  this. 

If  you  have  a  nut  before  you,  you  see  for  your- 
selves that  this  fruit  is  not  bright-colored  and  juicy- 
looking,  or  apparently  good  to  eat,  and  thus  likely  to 
tempt  either  boy  or  bird  to  carry  it  off;  you  see  that 
it  is  not  covered  with  hooks  that  can  lay  hold  of  your 
clothing,  and  so  steal  a  ride ;  and  you  see  that  it  has 
no  silky  sails  to  float  it  through  the  air,  nor  any  wings 
to  carry  it  upon  the  wind. 

And  so  the  witch-hazel,  knowing  that  neither  boy  nor 
girl,  nor  bird  nor  beast  nor  wind,  will  come  to  the  rescue 
of  its  little  ones,  is  obliged  to  take  matters  into  its  own 
hands ;  and  this  is  what  it  does.  It  forces  open  the 
ripe  nut  with  such  violence,  that  its  little  black  seeds 
are  sent  rattling  off  into  the  air,  and  do  not  fall  to  the 
ground  till  they  have  traveled  some  distance  from  home. 
Really  they  are  shot  out  into  the  world  (Fig.  72). 


65 

If  you  wish  to  make  sure  that  this  is  actually  so, 
gather  some  of  these  nuts,  and  take  them  home  with 
you.  It  will  not  be  long  before  they  begin  to  pop  open, 
and  shoot  out  their  little  seeds. 

Did  you  ever  hear  of  Thoreau  ?  He  was  a  man  who 
left  his  friends  and  family  to  live  by  himself  in  the 
woods  he  so  dearly  loved.  Here  he  grew  to  know 
each  bird  and  beast,  each  flower  and  tree,  almost  as 
if  they  were  his  brothers  and  sisters.  One  day 
he  took  home  with  him  some  of  these  nuts,  and 
later  he  wrote  about  them  in  his  journal,  — 

"  Heard  in  the  night  a  snap- 
ping  sound,    and    the    fall    of 
some  small  body  on  the   floor 
from  time  to  time.     In  the  morning  I  found   ^       FlG 
it  was  produced  by  the  witch-hazel  nuts  on 
my  desk  springing  open  and   casting  their  seeds  quite 
across  my  chamber." 

Now,  I  do  not  want  any  of  you  children  to  go  off 
by  yourselves  to  live  in  the  woods  ;  but  I  should  like 
to  think  that  you  could  learn  to  love  these  woods  and 
their  inmates  with  something  of  the  love  that  Thoreau 
felt.  And  if  you  watch  their  ways  with  half  the  care 
that  he  did,  some  such  love  is  sure  to  come. 

Although  the  witch-hazel's  rough  way  of  dealing 
with  its  young  is  not  very  common  among  the  plants, 
we  find  much  the  same  thing  done  by  the  wild  gera- 
nium, or  crane's  bill,  and  by  the  touch-me-not. 

The  wild  geranium  is  the  pretty  purplish,  or  at  times 
pink  flower  which  blossoms  along  the  roads  and  in  the 
woods  in  May  and  early  June. 

DANA'S    PLANTS.  —  K 


66 


Fig.  73 


Its  seedbox  has  five  divisions.  In  fruit  this  seedbox 
tapers  above  into  a  long  beak,  which  gives  the  plant 
its  name  of  "  crane's  bill."  When  the 
fruit  is  quite  ripe,  it  splits  away  from  the 
central  part  of  this  beak  in  five  separate 
pieces,  which  spring  upward  so  suddenly 
that  the  seeds  are  jerked  out  of  the  five 
cells,  and  flung  upon  the  earth  at  a  dis- 
tance of  several  feet.  The  picture  (Fig. 
y$)  shows  you  how  this  is  done.  But  a 
little  search  through  the  summer  woods 
will  bring  you  to  the  plant  itself ;  and  if 
you  are  patient,  perhaps  you  will  see 
how  the  wild  geranium  gets  rid  of  its 
children.  But  though  this  habit  may  at 
first  seem  to  you  somewhat  unmotherly,  if  you  stop  to 
think  about  it  you  will  see  that  really  the  parent  plant 
is  doing  its  best  for  its  little  ones.  If  they  should  fall 
directly  upon  the  ground  beneath,  their  chances  in  life 
would  be  few.  About  plants,  as  about  people,  you  must 
not  make  up  your  minds  too  quickly. 

Another  plant  that  all  of  you  country  children  ought 
to  know,  is  the  touch-me-not,  or  jewelweed.  Sometimes 
this  is  called  ''lady's  eardrop,"  because  its  pretty,  red- 
gold,  jewel-like  flowers  remind  us  of  the 
drops  that  once  upon  a  time  ladies  wore 
in  their  ears.  These  flowers  we  find  in 
summer  in  wet,  woody  places.  In  the 
fall  the  fruit  appears.  This  fruit  is  a 
little  pod  (Fig.  74)  which  holds  several  seeds.  When 
this  pod  is  ripe,  it  bursts   open   and  coils  up  with   an 


Fig.  74 


6; 

elastic  spring  which  sends  these   seeds   also   far  fror 
home  (Fig.  75).  ^ 

This  performance  of  the  touch-me-not  you  6^? 

can  easily  see;  for  its  name  "touch-me-not"        ^ 

comes  from  the  fact  that  if  you  touch  too  roughly 
one  of  its  well-grown  pods,  this  will  spring  open 
and  jerk  out  its  seeds  in  the  way  I  have  just 
described. 

In  Europe  grows  a  curious  plant  called  the 
"  squirting  cucumber  "  ( Fig.  76).  Its  fruit  is  a  small 
cucumber,  which  becomes  much  inflated  with 
water.  When  this  is  detached  from  its  stalk,  its 
contents  are  "  squirted "  out  as  if  from  a  foun- 
tain, and  the  seeds  are  thus  thrown  to  a  distance 
of  many  feet. 

THE  CHESTNUT  AND  OTHER  SEEDS 


Fig.  75 


branches  till  the  open 
contents.     But   sometimes 


AT  the  head  of  this  chapter  you 
see  the  fruit  of  the  chestnut 
tree  (Fig.  77). 

What  fine  October  days  this  pic- 
ture brings  to  mind,  —  clear,  cold 
mornings  when  we  arm  ourselves 
with  baskets   and   a   club,  and  go 
chestnuting. 

Usually   the  boys   climb   the 

tree,      and      shake      the 

burrs    rattle     out    their 

a  teasing  cluster  refuses 


68 

to  set  loose  its  treasure.  Then  the  club  comes  into 
play.  If  it  strikes  the  great  burrs,  and  raps  out  their 
fat  chestnuts,  a  shout  of  joy  follows. 

What  a  delight  it  is  to  hunt  in  the  long  grass  for  the 
glossy  brown  beauties  just  after  a  sudden  shower  from 
above !  No  one  speaks.  Ail  are  bent  low  in  breath- 
less search. 

I  know  of  nothing  much  more  perfect  in  its  way 
than  an  open  chestnut  burr,  still  holding  its  two  or 
three  fine  nuts.  Its  green,  prickly  outer  covering  makes 
a  fine  contrast  to  the  velvety  brown  lining ;  and  within 
this  beautiful  case  the  plump,  shining  nuts  are  laid  with 
the  daintiest  care. 

Perhaps  the  chestnut  burr  is  even  safer  as  a  seed 
case  than  the  apple.  While  its  seeds  (the  chestnuts) 
are  young  and  unripe,  it  does  not  stop  to  plead,  "  Pray, 
don't  destroy  my  baby  nuts  !  "  but  it  seems  to  call  out 
sternly,  "  Hands  off!"  and  promptly  punishes  the  boy 
or  girl  who  disobeys  this  rough  command. 

But  when  the  chestnut  seeds  are  quite  ripe,  then  it 
opens  as  wide  as  it  knows  how  ;  and  very  tempting  it 
looks  as  it  unfolds  its  contents.  A  chestnut  tree  in 
October  looks  like  one  great  invitation. 

The  acorn  (Fig.  78),  the  seed  of  the  oak  tree,  is 
pretty  enough  as  a  plaything,  but  less  pleasing  than 
the   chestnut.     Only  the  squirrel  seems   to   find   it 


Fig.  78 


The  trees  which  hide  their  seeds  in  nutshells  con- 
trive in  different  ways  to  send  them  abroad. 
Many  of  these  nuts  are  hoarded  as  winter  food  by 
the  squirrels.     Often  in  a  moment  of  fright  these  little 


69 

creatures  drop  them  by  the  way.  Again,  they  forget 
just  where  they  deposited  their  hoard,  or  for  some  other 
reason  they  leave  it  untouched.  Thus  many  nuts  are 
scattered,  and  live  to  change  into  trees. 

Others  may  fall  into  the  water,  and  float  to  distant 
shores.  The  cocoanut,  for  example,  has  been  carried 
in  this  way  for  hundreds  of  miles.  Its  outer  covering 
protects  the  seed  from  being  soaked  or  hurt  by  water ; 
and  when  at  last  it  is  washed  upon  some  distant  shore, 
it  sends  up  a  tall  cocoanut  tree. 


3**C 


SOME    STRANGE   STORIES 

WHEN  I  began  to  tell  you  children  about  the  dif- 
ferent ways  in  which  plants  send  their  young 
out  into  the  world,  I  had  no  idea  that  I  should  take  so 
much  time,  and  cover  so  many  pages  with  the  subject. 
And  now  I  realize  that  I  have  not  told  you  one  half, 
or  one  quarter,  of  all  there  is  to  tell. 

You  have  learned  that  seeds  are  scattered  abroad  by 
animals  that  eat  the  bright  cases  in  which  they  are 
packed,  and  by  animals  into  whose  hair  or  clothing 
they  manage  to  fasten  themselves. 

You  know  that  sometimes  seeds  are  blown  through 
the  air  by  means  of  silky  sails  to  which  they  are  fas- 
tened, or  else  by  their  little  wings. 

You  discovered  that  certain  plants  actually  pushed 
their  young  from  their  cozy  homes  in  no  gentle  fashion, 
much  as  a  mother  bird  shoves  her  timid  little  ones  from 
the  edge  of  the  nest. 


;o 


Fig.  79 


And  in   the  last  chapter  you  read  that  occasionally 
seeds  were  floated  by  water  to  distant  shores. 

Now,  these  are  the  chief  ways  in  which  plants  con- 
trive to  dispose  of  their  seeds ;  but  they  are  not  the 
only  ways.  Before  leaving  the  subject  altogether,  I 
will  mention  a  few  plants  which  use  other  contrivances. 
This  picture  (Fig.  79)  shows  you  the  fruit  of  the 
poppy.  Many  of  you  know  it  well.  In  the  fall 
you  find  in  the  garden  these  pretty  seedboxes. 
They  answer  famously  as  pepper  pots,  if  one 
chances  to  be  playing  house  in  the  orchard. 

Just  below  the  top  of  the  poppy  seedbox  the 
picture  shows  you  a  circle  of  little  openings ;  and 
inside  the  seedbox  are  many  poppy  seeds  (Fig.  80). 
But  how  can  seeds  get  out  of  these  openings, 
do  you  suppose  ? 
If  they  were  lower  down,  it  would  be  an  easy  matter 
for  the  seeds  to  drop  out,  right  on  the  ground.  But 
perhaps  it  is  well  that  this  cannot  happen.  Did  such 
a  quantity  of  seeds  fall  upon  one  small  bit  of 
earth,  they  would  have  a  poor  chance  for  life. 

Well,  then,  you  ask,  must  they  wait  patiently  in 
the  seedbox  till  some  child  comes  along  and  pulls 
it  off  for  a  pepper  pot  ? 

No,   they   are    not    obliged    to  wait   always   for 
you    children.     This    is   fortunate  for  the    poppy 
plants  that    are    so    unlucky  as   to   live   in    lonely  gar- 
dens where  no  children  ever  play. 
Then  what  does  happen  ? 

If   you  will   go  out  into   the  garden  the  next  windy 
fall  day,  you  will  see  for  yourselves.     You  will  see  the 


7i 

tall  poppy  plants  swaying  to  and  fro  with  every  gust 
of  wind ;  and  you  will  see  how  the  seedboxes  are 
tossed  from  side  to  side,  and  that  every  now  and  then 
a  very  violent  toss  sends  the  little  seeds  tumbling  head 
over  heels  out  of  the  little  openings  just  as  effectively 
as  if  the  wind  too  were  playing  house  and  using  them 
as  pepper  pots. 

When  the  seeds  are  let  loose  in  this  way,  the  tall 
poppy  plants  are  swayed  so  far  to  one  side,  and  the 
wind  is  blowing  so  hard,  that  they  land  upon  the 
ground  much  farther  from  home  than  would  have  been 
the  case  had  they  fallen  through  openings  cut  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  seedbox. 

In  the  East  grows  a  strange  plant  called  the  "  rose 
of  Jericho."  Its  fruit  is  a  pod.  When  this  plant  is 
nearly  ready  to  get  rid  of  its  seeds,  what  do  you  think 
it  does  ?  It  lets  go  its  hold  upon  the  earth,  curls  itself 
up  into  a  little  ball,  and  is  driven  here  and  there  by 
the  wind.  When  it  finds  a  nice  damp  place,  it  stops 
and  uncurls  itself ;  and  the  little  pods 
split  open,  and  drop  their  seeds  on 
the  earth. 

Some  plants  bear  fruits  that  look 

very  much  like  insects.    It  is  believed 

that  sometimes  these   are  taken   for 

such,  and  snapped  up  by  birds,  and 

thus   succeed   in   getting   away  from 

home. 

Fig.  8i 
This  picture   (Fig.   81)   shows  you 

a  pod  which,  as  it  lies  upon  the  ground,  looks  like  a 

centiped. 


72 

Here   you  have   a   seed    which    is    shaped    and 
marked  like  a  beetle  (Fig.  82). 

The  next  picture   (Fig.    83)   shows   you   a  seed 
from  the   castor-oil  plant.      You   can    see   that   it 
Fig.  82     might  easily  be  mistaken  for  some  insect. 

Think   how   disappointed  the   bird   must  be,   *  q 
after  having  greedily  snapped  up  and  carried  off  one 
of  these  little  objects,  to  discover  that  for  all  his  pains    tlG_  g, 
he  has  secured  nothing  but  a  dry,  tough  pod  or  seed. 

But  if  the  mother  plant  really  does  any  thinking  at 
all,  cannot  you  fancy  how  she  chuckles  with  delight 
over  the  trick  she  has  played,  and  the  clever  way  in 
which  she  has  started  her  young  on  its  travels  ? 

There  is  still  another  way  in  which  birds  help  to 
scatter  seeds.  They  alight  in  wet  places,  covering 
their  little  feet  with  mud.  Now,  a  clot  of  mud  may 
contain  many  different  seeds  ;  and  for  days  this  clot 
may  stick  to  the  bird's  foot,  and  thus  cause  the  seeds 
it  holds  to  be  carried  for  hundreds  of  miles. 

Have  you  ever  heard  of  Darwin  ?  He  was  a  great 
man  who  spent  most  of  his  life  in  studying  plants  and 
animals. 

How  many  years  do  you  suppose  he  was  interested 
in  the  study  of  those  long,  brown  worms  which  you 
find  in  quantities  in  the  lawn  and  after  heavy  rains 
along  the  sidewalk  ?  At  intervals  for  forty-four  years 
he  studied  these  little  creatures  which  you  girls  think 
ugly  and  uninteresting  enough,  although  the  boys  know 
they  make  fine  fish  bait. 

Well,  Darwin  once  raised  eighty-two  plants  from 
seeds  contained  in  a  clot  of  earth  which  was  clinging 


73 

to  the  leg  of  a  partridge.  So  you  can  see  that  when 
a  bird  gets  his  feet  wet,  he  may  really  be  doing  the 
world  a  service.  And  it  is  not  likely  that  he  takes  cold 
himself. 

Now,  I  want  you  children  to  see  how  many  different 
ways  you  can  recall  in  which  plants  scatter  abroad  their 
little  seeds ;  and  later  I  want  you  to  go  out  into  the 
garden,  or  into  the  woods,  and  see  if  you  cannot  dis- 
cover many  of  the  seeds  about  which  you  have  been 
reading.  But  better  still  it  would  be  if  you  could  find 
others  of  which  I  have  told  you  nothing. 

I  should  like  you  to  make  a  list  of  the  different  plants 
which  you  find  in  fruit,  putting  after  each  name  a  slight 
description  of  the  way  in  which  it  gets  rid  of  its  seeds. 
This  will  not  be  a  stupid  task  at  all  if  you  set  your 
mind  to  it.  It  will  give  your  walks  a  new  pleasure, 
and  it  will  bring  to  your  school  work  something  of  the 
freshness  and  joy  which  belong  to  the  woods. 


Part  II  —  Young  Plants 


>x*< 


HOW   THE    BABY    PLANT    LIVES 

WHEN  these  little  seeds  at  last  find  a  good  resting 
place,  what  do  you  think  happens  to  them  ? 
They  grow  into  new  plants,  of  course.  But  how  does 
this  come  about  ?     How  does  a  seed  turn  into  a  plant  ? 

I  could  hardly  expect  you  to  guess  this,  any  more 
than  I  could  have  expected  you  to  guess  how  the  apple 
flower  changes  into  the  apple  fruit.  I  will  tell  you  a 
little  about  it ;  and  then  I  hope  your  teacher  will  show 
you  real  seeds  and  real  plants,  and  prove  to  you  that 
what  I   have  said  is  really  so. 

Of  course,  you  believe  already  that  I  try  to  tell  yen 
the  exact  truth  about  all  these  things.     But  people  far 
wiser   than    I    have    been    mistaken    in   what    they 
thought  was  true ;    and  so  it  will  be  well  for  you 
to  make  sure,  with  your  own  eyes,  that  I  am  right 
in  what  I   say. 

If  you  should  cut  in  two  the  seed  of  that  beau- 
tiful  flower  the  garden  peony,  and  should  look  at  '   4 

it  very  closely  through  a  good  magnifying  glass,  you 
would  find  a  tiny  object  such  as  you  see  in  the  half 
seed  shown  in  this  picture  (Fig.  84).     Both  your  eyes 

75 


76 

and  your  glass  need  to  be  very  good  to  show  you  that 
this  little  object  is  a  baby  peony  plant.  Fig.  85  gives 
the  little  plant  as  it  would  'look  if  taken  out  of  the  seed. 

Every  ripe  seed  holds  a  baby  plant ;  and  to  become  a 
grown-up  plant,  it  needs  just  what  boy  and  girl  babies 
need,  —  food  and  drink  and  air. 

But  shut  up  so  tight  in  its  seed  shell,  how  can  it  get 
these  ? 

Well,  in  this  peony  seed  its  food  is  close  at  hand.  It 
is  packed  away  inside  the  seed,  all  about  the  little  plant. 

In  the  picture  (Fig.  84),  everything  except  the  little 

f    j\     white  spot,  which  shows  the  plant,  is  baby  food,  — 

\  /       food  that  is  all  prepared  to  be  eaten  by  a  delicate 

V/        little  plant,  and  that  is   suited  to    its   needs  just  as 

IG"    5    milk    is  suited   to  the  needs  of  your  little  sister  or 

brother. 

The  little  leaves  of  the  baby  plant  take  in  the 
food  that  is  needed  to  make  it  grow  fat  and  strong. 

Now,  how  does  the  baby  plant  get  water  to  drink  ? 

I  have  asked  your  teacher  to  soak  over  night  some 
peas  that  have  been  dried  for  planting,  and  to  bring 
to  school  to-day  a  handful  of  these,  and  also  a  handful 
which  have  not  been  soaked.  She  will  pass  these 
about,  and  you  can  see  how  different  the  soaked  ones 
are  from  the  others.  Those  that  have  not  been  in  the 
water  look  dried  and  wrinkled  and  old,  almost  dead  in 
fact;  while  those  which  have  been  soaked  are  nearly 
twice  as  large.  They  look  fat,  and  fresh,  and  full  of 
life.     Now,  what  has  happened  to  them  ? 

Why,  all  night  long  they  have  been  sucking  in  water 
through    tiny    openings    in    the    seed    shell ;     and    this 


77 

water  has  so  refreshed  them,  and  so  filled  the  wrinkled 
coats  and  swelled  them  out,  that  they  look  almost 
ready  to  burst. 

So  you  see,  do  you  not,  how  the  water  manages  to 
get  inside  the  seed  so  as  to  give  the  baby  plant  a  drink  ? 

Usually  it  is  rather  late  in  the  year  when  seeds  fall  to 
the  earth.  During  the  winter  the  baby  plant  does  not 
do  any  drinking ;  for  then  the  ground  is  frozen  hard, 
and  the  water  cannot  reach  it.  But  when  the  warm 
spring  days  come,  the  ice  melts,  and  the  ground  is  full 
of  moisture.  Then  the  seed  swells  with  all  the  water 
it  sucks  in,  and  the  baby  plant  drinks,  drinks, 
drinks,   all  day  long. 

You  scarcely  need  ask  how  it  keeps  warm,  this 
little  plant.  It  is  packed  away  so  snugly  in  the 
seed  shell,  and  the  seed  shell  is  so  covered  by 
the  earth,  and  the  earth  much  of  the  time  is  so 
tucked  away  beneath  a  blanket  of  snow,  that  usually 
there  is  no  trouble  at  all  about  keeping  warm. 

But  how,  then,  does  it  get  air? 

Well,  of  course,  the  air  it  gets  would  not  keep  alive 
a  human  baby.  But  a  plant  baby  needs  only  a  little 
air ;  and  usually  enough  to  keep  it  in  good  condition 
makes  its  way  down  through  the  snow  and  earth  to 
the  tiny  openings  in  the  seed  shell.  To  be  sure,  if  the 
earth  above  is  kept  light  and  loose,  the  plant  grows  more 
quickly,  for  then  the  air  reaches  it  with  greater  ease. 

So  now  you  see  how  the  little  plant  inside  the  peony 
seed  gets  the  food  and  drink  and  air  it  needs  for  its 
growth. 

In   the  picture  above  (Fig.  86)  you  get  a  side  view 


7% 

of  the  baby  plant  of  the  morning-glory,  its  unripe  seed 
being  cut  in  two.  As  you  look  at  it  here,  its  queer 
shape  reminds  you  of  an  eel.  But  if  instead  of  cutting 
through  the  seed,  you  roll  it  carefully  between  your 
fingers,  and  manage  to  slip  off  its  coat,  and  if  then 
you  take  a  pin  and  carefully  pick  away  the  whitish, 
jelly-like  stuff  which  has  been  stored  as  baby  food,  you 
will  find  a  tiny  green  object  which  through  a  magnify- 
ing glass  looks  like  the  next  picture  (Fig.   Sy).     The 

narrow  piece  pointing  downward   is   the   stem 

from  which  grows   the   root.      Above  this   are 

two  leaves. 

This  baby  plant  is  a  very  fascinating  thing 

to   look   at.      I   never  seem  to  tire  of   picking 

Ftp    87 

7  apart  a  young  seed  for  the  sake  of  examining 

through  a  glass  these  delicate  bright-green  leaves.  It 
seems  so  wonderful  that  the  vine  which  twines  far 
above  our  heads,  covered  with  glorious  flowers,  should 
come  from  this  green  speck. 

As  this  morning-glory  is  a  vine  which  lives  at  many 
of  your  doorsteps,  I  hope  you  will  not  fail  to  collect  its 
seeds,  and  look  at  their  baby  plants.  When  these  are 
very  young,  still  surrounded  by  a  quantity  of  baby  food, 
you  will  not  be  able  to  make  them  out  unless  you  carry 
them  to  your  teacher  and  borrow  her  glass ;  but  when 
the  seed  is  ripe,  and  the  little  plant  has  eaten  away 
most  of  the  surrounding  food,  it  grows  so  big  that  you 
can  see  it  quite  plainly  with  your  own  eyes. 


79 


A    SCHOOLROOM    GARDEN 

[WANT  you  children  to  do  a  little  gardening  in  the 
schoolroom.     You  will  enjoy  this,  I  am  sure. 

When  I  was  a  child,  I  took  great  delight  in  the  ex- 
periments that  I  am  going  to  suggest  to  you  ;  and  now 
that  I  am  grown  up,  I  find  they  please  me  even  more 
than  they  did  years  ago. 

During  the  past  week  I  have  been  doing  this  sort  of 
gardening;  and  I  have  become  so  interested  in  the 
plant  babies  which  I  have  helped  into  the  world,  that  I 
have  not  been  at  all  ready  to  stop  playing  with  them, 
even  for  the  sake  of  sitting  down  to  tell  you  about 
them. 

To  start  my  garden,  I  had  first  to  get  some  seeds. 
So  I  put  on  my  hat  and  went  down  to  the  little  shop  in 
the  village,  half  of  which  is  given  up  to  tailor  work, 
while  the  other  half  is  devoted  to  flower  raising.  The 
gray-bearded  florist  tailor  who  runs  this  queer  little 
place  was  greatly  interested  when  he  heard  that  I 
wanted  the  seeds  so  that  I  might  tell  you  children 
something  of  their  strange  ways. 

"  Seeds  air  mighty  interestin'  things,"  he  said.  "Be 
you  young  or  be  you  old,  there's  nothin'  sets  you 
thinkin'  like  a  seed." 

Perhaps  the  florist  tailor  had  been  fortunate  in  his 
friends ;  for  I  have  known  both  grown-up  people  and 
children  who  year  after  year  could  see  the  wonder  of 
seed  and  baby  plant,  of  flower  and  fruit,  without  once 
stopping  to  say,  "  What  brings  about  these  changes  ? " 


8o 

To  "  set  thinking  "  some  people  would  take  an  earth- 
quake or  an  avalanche  ;  but  when  this  sort  of  thing  is 
needed  to  start  their  brains  working,  the  "  thinking  "  is 
not  likely  to  be  good  for  much. 

But  I  hope  that  some  of  you  will  find  plenty  to  think 
about  in  the  seeds  which  your  teacher  is  going  to  show 
you ;  and  I  hope  that  these  thoughts  may  be  the  begin- 
ning of  an  interest  and  curiosity  that  will  last  as  long  as 
you  live. 

The  seeds  which  I  got  that  morning  were  those  of 
the  bean,  squash,  pea,  and  corn  ;  and  your  teacher  has 
been  good  enough  to  get  for  you  these  same  seeds,  and 
she  will  show  you  how  to  do  with  them  just  what  I  have 
been  doing  this  past  week. 

First,  I  filled  a  pot  with  finely  sifted  earth,  and 
planted  the  different  seeds  ;  then  I  filled  a  glass  with 
water,  floated  some  cotton  wool  upon  its  surface,  and 
in  this  wool  laid  some  beans ;  and  then  my  garden 
planting  was  done. 

During  the  following  days  I  kept  the  earth  in  the  pot 
slightly  moist.  The  cotton  wool  in  the  glass  of  water 
did  this  for  itself. 

And  how  carefully  I  watched  my  two  little  gardens  ! 

For  three  days  the  pot  of  earth  kept  its  secret. 
Nothing  happened  there,  so  far  as  I  could  see.  But 
the  beans  that  were  laid  upon  the  cotton  wool  grew 
fat  and  big  by  the  second  day,  just  like  those  that  your 
teacher  soaked  over  night ;  and  by  the  third  day  their 
seed  coats  had  ripped  open  a  little  way,  just  as  your 
coat  would  rip  open  if  it  were  tightly  buttoned  up  and 
suddenly  you  grew  very  fat ;  and  out  of  the  rip  in  the 


8i 

seed  coat  peeped  a  tiny  white  thing,  looking  like  the 
bill  of  a  chick  that  is  pecking  its  way  out  of  the  egg- 
shell which  has  become  too  small  to  hold  it. 

Very   quickly   this   little   white  tip   grew   longer.      It 
curved  over  and  bent  downward,  piercing  its 
way  through  the  cotton  wool  into  the  water. 

About  this  time  the  pot  garden  began  to 


show  signs  of  a  disturbance.    Here  and  there  FlG-  88 

I  saw  what  looked  like  the  top  of  a  thick  green  hoop 
(Fig.  88). 

What  had  happened,  do  you  think? 

Why,  first  this  bean  had  sucked  in  from  the  damp 
earth  so  much  water  that  it  had  grown  too  fat  and 
big  for  the  seed  coat ;  and  it  had  torn  this  open,  just 
like  the  other  bean,  pushing  out  its  little  white  tip  ;  and 
this  tip  had  bent  down  into  the  earth  and  taken  a  good 
hold  there,  lengthening  into  a  real  root,  and  sending 
out  little  root  hairs  that  fastened  it  down  still  more 
firmly. 

But  it  was  not  satisfied  to  do  all  its  growing  below. 
Its  upper  part  now  straightened  itself  out,  and  started 
right  up  into  the  air.  From  a  hoop  it  turned  into  a 
stem  which  lifted  the  bean  clear  above  the  earth 
(Fig.  89). 

This  bean  was  no  longer  the  round  object  we  usually 
call  by  that  name  ;  for  its  two  halves  had  opened  and 
spread  outward,  and  from  between  these  two  halves 
grew  a  pair  of  young  leaves. 

As  these  leaves  grew  larger,  the  two  half-beans 
began  to  shrink,  growing  smaller  and  more  withered 
all  the  time  (Fig.  90). 

DANA'S   PLANTS.  —  6 


S2 


Turn 


Why  was  this,  do  you  suppose  ? 

To  make  clear  the  reason  of  this,  to  show  just  why 
the  two  halves  of  the  bean  grew  smaller  as  the  rest  of 
the  young  bean  plant  grew  larger,  I  must  go  back  a 
way. 

to  the  picture  of  the  peony  seed  (Fig.  84). 
There  you  can  see  how  the  baby  plant  is 
packed  away  in  the  midst  of  a  quantity  of 
baby  food.  And  in  the  picture  of  the  morn- 
ing-glory seed  (Fig.  86)  you  see  the  same 
thing. 

You  remember  that  day  by  day  the  baby 
plant  ate  more  and  more  of  this  food,  and 
kept  growing  stronger  and  bigger,  and  that 
all  this  time  the  store  of  food  kept  growing 
smaller  and  smaller. 

Now,  if  you  cut  open  the  bean,  you  do  not 
see  a  tiny  plant  set  in  the  midst  of  a  store  of 
food. 

Why  is  this  ?     This  is   because  the  baby 
bean  plant  keeps  its  food  in  its  own  leaves. 

The  seed  coat  of  the  bean  is  filled  by  these  leaves, 
for  each  half  of  the  bean  is  really  a  seed  leaf.  In  these 
two  thick  leaves  is  stored  all  the  food  that  is  necessary 
to  the  life  of  the  baby  plant ;  and  because  of  all  this 
food  which  they  hold,  the  bean  plant  is  able  to  get  a 
better  start  in  life  than  many  other  young  plants. 

If  you  soak  and  strip  off  its  seed  coat,  and  pull  apart 
the  two  thick  leaves,  you  will  find  a  tiny  pair  of  new 
leaves  already  started  (Fig.  91);  but  you  will  see  noth- 
ing: of  the  sort  in  the  seed  of  the  mornincc-HorY,  for  the 


Fig.  90 


83 

reason  that  this  is  not  so  well  stored  with  baby  food  as 
to  be  able  to  do  more  than  get  its  seed  leaves  well 
under  way. 

The  pea,  like  the  bean,  is  so  full  of  food,  that  it  also 
is  able  to  take  care  of  a  second  pair  of  leaves. 

But  now  to  go  back  to  the  young  bean  plant 
in  the  schoolroom  garden.  We  were  wonder- 
ing why  the  two  halves  of  the  bean,  which  are 
really  the  first  pair  of  leaves,  kept  growing 
thinner  and  smaller  as  the  second  pair  grew 

larger. 

to  Fig.  91 

Perhaps  you  guess  now  the  reason  for  this. 
These  first  leaves,  called  the  seed  leaves,  feed  all  the 
rest  of  the  young  bean  plant. 

Of  course,  as  they  keep  on  doing  this,  they  must 
themselves  shrink  away ;  but  they  do  not  cease  with 
their  work  till  the  plant  is  able  to  take  care  of  itself. 

By  this  time,  however,  the  seed  leaves  have  nothing 
left  to  live  upon.  They  die  of  starvation,  and  soon 
fade  and  disappear. 

So  now  you  understand  just  what  has  happened  to 
the  leaves  that  once  were  so  fat  and  large. 

And  I  hope  you  will  remember  the  difference  between 
the  seed  of  the  morning-glory  and  that  of  the  bean, 
—  how  the  morning-glory  packs  the  baby  food  inside 
the  seed,  of  course,  but  outside  the  baby  plant;  while 
the  bean  packs  it  inside  the  two  seed  leaves,  which  are 
so  thick  that  there  is  no  room  for  anything  else  within 
the  seed  coat. 

But  really,  to  understand  all  that  I  have  been  telling 
you,  you  must  see  it  for  yourselves ;  you  must  hold  in 


84 

your  hands  the  dried  bean  ;  you  must  examine  it,  and 
make  sure  that  its  seed  shell  is  filled  entirely  by  the 
baby  plant ;  you  must  see  it  grow  plump  and  big  from 
the  water  which  it  has  been  drinking ;  you  must  watch 
with  sharp  eyes  for  that  first  little  rip  in  the  seed  coat, 
and  for  the  putting-out  of  the  tiny  tip,  which  grows 
later  into  stem  and  root  ;  you  must  notice  how  the  bent 
stem  straightens  out,  and  lifts  the  thick  seed  leaves  up 
into  the  air  ;  and  you  must  observe  how  that  other  pair 
of  leaves,  which  grows  from  between  the  seed  leaves, 
becomes  larger  and  larger  as  the  seed  leaves  grow 
smaller  and  thinner,  and  how,  when  the  little  plant  is 
able  to  hold  its  own  in  the  world,  the  seed  leaves  die 
away. 

And  if  day  by  day  you  follow  this  young  life,  with 
the  real  wish  to  discover  its  secret,  you  will  begin  to 
understand  what  the  wise  old  florist  tailor  meant  when 
he  said,  — 

"  Be  you  young  or  be  you  old,  there's  nothin'  sets 
yon  thinkin'  like  a  seed." 


85 


A    SCHOOLROOM    GARDEN    {Concluded) 


THE  picture  at  the  top  of  this  page  (Fig.  92)  shows 
you  how  the  young  squash  plant  comes  into  the 
world ;  for  you  remember  that  in  my  pot  garden  I 
planted  some  squash  seeds.  And  I  hope  that  in  your 
schoolroom  garden  you  will  watch  this  plant  as  it  makes 
its  first  appearance. 

The  baby  food  of  the  squash  vine,  like  that  of  the 
bean,  is  stored  away  inside  the  seed  leaves,  which  on 
this  account  are  so  large  that  they  quite  fill  the  seed 
shell.  They  are  not  so  thick  as  those  of  the  bean,  but 
thick  enough  to  hold  all  the  nourishment  that  is  needed 
to  keep  the  young  plant  alive  and  hearty  until  it  is  big 
enough  to  shift  for  itself. 

Very  soon  after  this  seed  is  laid  in  warm,  moist  earth, 
its  little  plant  begins  to  grow  too  large  for  the  seed 
shell,  and  the  white  stem  is  pushed  out  through  the 
hole  you  notice   at  one  end    of    the    seed.     This    stem 


86 


Fig. 


Fig.  95 


forces  its  way  into  the  earth  below,  and  puts  out  a  root, 
and  root  fingers.  And  now  its  upper  part  begins  to 
lengthen  out  and  to  straighten  itself.      In  doing  this, 

it  pulls  the  two  seed 
leaves  right  out  of  the 
seed  coat.  If  it  fails 
at  once  to  get  rid  of 
the  seed  coat,  it  lifts 
this  up  into  the  air,  on 
top  of  its  leaves. 

Often  the  young 
maple  tree  comes  into  the  world  in  this  way,  carrying 
its  seed  coat  on  top  of  its  seed  leaves.  The  maple 
is  another  plant  that  packs  its  baby  food 
within  the  seed  leaves  instead  of  round 
about  them.  Perhaps  your  teacher  has 
saved  for  you  some  maple  keys  (Fig.  93), 
as  the  fruit  of  the  maple  tree  is  called.  If 
you  split  open  a  maple  key,  you  will  find 
hidden  within  one  of  its  halves  (Fig.  94)  the 
beautiful  baby  tree.  This  is  folded  away  so 
neatly  that  one  is  tempted  to  split  open  one  key  after 
another,  for  the  pleasure  of  unpacking  other  deli- 
cate baby  maples  (Fig.  95). 

But  now  let  us  find  out  what  has  happened  to 
the  peas  which  I  planted. 

Peas  seem  to  us  so  much  like  beans,  that  per- 
haps you  think  the  young  pea  baby  comes  into 
the  world  in  the  same  way  as  the  bean  plant ;  but 
surely  we  have  nothing  here  that  looks  at  all  like  the 
bean  plant. 


Fig.  94 


87 


We  see  some  stems  having  small,  thin,  green 
leaves. 

Where  are  the  fat  seed  leaves,  filled  with  the 
baby  food  that  keeps  the  plant  alive  ?  They  are 
not  in  sight,  certainly,  so  we  must  start  a  hunt 
for  them. 

If  you  will  carefully  remove  the 
earth  from  about  this  little  pea  plant, 
you  will  soon  find  that  the  pea  seed 
from  which  it  is  growing  lies  buried 
in  the  earth  (Fig.  96).  This  pea  seed, 
like  that  of  the  bean,  is  made  up  chief- 
ly of  what  really  are  two  seed  leaves, 
although  in  the  case  of  the  pea  it  may  seem 
only  as  a  matter  of  politeness  that  we  give 
them  the  name  of  "  leaves ;  "  for  in  the  pea 
these  seed  leaves  lie  buried  in  the  earth, 
and  split  open  just  enough  to  allow  the 
little  pea  plant  to  grow  up  into  the  air. 

But  like  the  seed  leaves  of  the  bean,  they 
are  fat  and  full  of  food,  and  care  for  the 
young  plant  just  as  devotedly  as  did  those 
of  the  bean.  When  this  young  plant  needs 
them  no  more,  like  those  of  the  bean,  they 
die  of  starvation. 

Within  the  acorn,  the  seed  leaves  of  the 
great  oak  tree  grow  together.  These  lie 
quietly  in  the  acorn  shell  while  sending  out 
supplies  of  food  to  the  root  and  stem  and  leaves  of  the 
voung  oak  (Fig.  97).  Walnut  and  chestnut  leaves  act 
much  in  the  same  manner.     But  these  first  leaves  of  the 


Fig.  97 


walnut  do  not  grow  together,  as  you  know.     Each  one 
is  packed  away  separately  in  half  of  the  walnut  shell. 

The  corn  has  but  one  seed  leaf,  which 
makes  it  unlike  all  the  other  plants  about 
which  we  have  been  reading  ;  but  it  resem- 
bles the  pea,  the  acorn,  the  walnut,  and  the 
chestnut  in  this,  — that  the  one  seed  leaf 
lies  buried  in  the  earth,  as  do  their 
two  seed  leaves. 

The  baby  corn  plant  is  very  small.  It  does  not 
fill  the  whole  seed  shell,  but  gets  its  nourishment 
from  the  food  by  which  it  is  surrounded. 

This  picture  shows  you  a  seed  or  grain  of  corn 
cut  in  two  (Fig.  98).  Of  course,  this  is  much  larger 
than  life.  In  the  center  you  see  the  tiny  plant. 
All  about  is  the  baby  food. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  99)  shows  you  the  young 
corn  plant. 

I  want  you  to  remember  that  this  is  the  only 
plant  we  have  seen  with  but  one  seed 
leaf.  This  one  seed  leaf  never  comes 
out  of  the  seed  shell.  There  are 
other  plants  of  the  same  kind.  All 
the  grass  plants  have  but  one  seed 
leaf,  and  the  blue  flag  that  grows  in 
wet  meadows,  and  all  the  lilies. 

Only  a  few  plants  have  more  than  two 
of  these  seed  leaves.  The  pine  trees  are 
among  these  few.  This  picture  (Fig.  100) 
shows  you  a  baby  pine  tree,  still  cradled 
in  its  seed,  surrounded  by  baby  food  ;  and 


Fig. 


Fig.  100 


89 

the  next  one  (Fig.  101)  shows  you  the  pine  just  starting 
out  in  the  world,  with  its  six  seed  leaves. 

When  you  study  the  botany  that  is  written  for  older 
people,  you  will  find  that  plants  are  set  apart  in  separate 
groups,  according  to  the  number  of  their  seed  leaves. 

Strange  though  it  may  seem  to  you,  plants  with  but 
one  seed  leaf  have  certain  habits  that  you  will  not  find 
in  a  plant  with  two  seed  leaves  ;  and  a  plant  with  two 
seed  leaves,  long  after  these  have  passed  away,  will  show 
by  root  and  stem  that  it  had  more  than  one  seed  leaf. 

In  your  schoolroom  garden  I  should  like  you  to  grow 
side  by  side,  first  a  plant  with  but  one  seed  leaf,  next  a 
plant  with  two  seed  leaves,  and  lastly  a  plant  with  more 
than  two. 

*oX*o~ — 

SEEDS    AS    FOOD 

I  WANT  you  to  think  for  yourselves  why  it  is  fortu- 
nate for  us  human  beings  that  many  plants  store 
away  in  their  seeds  so  much  baby  food. 

"  Because  without  this  the  little  plants  would  die,  and 
we  should  have  no  new  plants  to  make  the  world  beauti- 
ful to  live  in,"  some  child  replies. 

That  answer  is  a  good  one;  but  it  is  not  just  the 
answer  that  I  wish. 

Can  you  think  of  any  other  way  in  which  we  all 
benefit  by  the  large  supply  of  baby  food  that  is  packed 
away  in  certain  seeds  ? 

If  the  right  answer  to  this  question  does  not  occur  to 
you,  try  to  remember  which   of  those   seeds   we    have 


9° 

been  reading  about  have  been  supplied  with  a  specially 
large  amount~of  this  food. 

You  remember  that  the  bean  holds  so  much  baby 
food  in  its  seed  leaves,  that  these  are  very  fat.  So  do 
the  pea,  the  walnut,  and  the  chestnut.  The  seed  of 
corn,  also,  is  well  filled  with  baby  food,  only  in  the  corn 
seed  it  is  packed  around  the  outside  of  the  seed  leaves, 
instead  of  the  inside. 

But  the  squash,  although  it  puts  in  its  seed  leaves 
enough  food  to  keep  its  young  plant  well  and  hearty, 
does  not  lay  by  any  great  quantity  of  this  material. 
Neither  does  the  maple  tree,  which  also  stores  the  seed 
leaves  with  food,  but  does  not  fill  them  nearly  so  full 
as  do  the  bean  and  the  pea. 

And  the  morning-glory,  which  packs  its  precious 
white  jelly  (this  is  what  the  little  morning-glory  plant 
likes  to  eat)  all  about  its  young,  lays  up  only  just 
enough  of  this  to  last  until  the  baby  plant  breaks  out 
of  ifs  seed  shell. 

Now,  what  difference  do  we  find  between  these  seeds  ? 
—  between  the  seeds  of  squash,  morning-glory,  and 
maple,  which  have  only  a  small  supply  of  baby  food, 
and  those  other  ones,  such  as  bean  and  pea  and  corn 
and  walnut  and  chestnut,  which  are  packed  full  of 
nourishment  ? 

''Why,  these  last  ones  are  good  to  eat!  "  you  exclaim. 
"  They  are  part  of  the  food  we  live  upon,  while  the 
squash  seeds,  the  morning-glory  seeds,  and  the  maple 
seeds  are  not  good  to  eat." 

Yes,  that  is  the  answer  which  I  wished.  The  baby 
food  in  these    seeds    makes    "  grown-up  "  food  for  us. 


9i 

We  get  strength  and  nourishment  from  the  same  mate- 
rial which  the  mother  plant  has  prepared  for  her  young. 

Now  try  to  name  the  different  seeds  which  help  to 
make  up  our  food.  Already  we  have  mentioned  several 
kinds.  Besides  these,  there  is  the  oat  seed  (from  which 
comes  oatmeal),  the  wheat  seed  (from  which  comes 
flour  for  our  bread),  the  coffee  seed,  the  buckwheat 
seed,  the  peanut  seed,  the  almond  seed,  and  many 
others,  some  of  which  will  come  to  your  mind  from  time 
to  time. 

I  wish  you  would  make  for  your  teacher  a  list  of  all 
those  that  you  can  recall ;  or,  better  still,  I  should  like 
you  to  collect  as  many  as  you  possibly  can,  and  bring 
them  to  your  next  class.  If  you  cannot  find  the  seeds 
just  as  they  grow  upon  the  plant,  you  may  be  able  to 
get  them  prepared  for  use.  A  pinch  of  flour,  for  in- 
stance, would  answer  for  wheat  seeds,  of  oatmeal  for 
oat  seeds. 

I  have  in  mind  a  number  of  seeds  that  you  can  easily 
secure,  of  which  I  have  not  spoken ;  and  it  will  be  in- 
teresting at  our  next  meeting  to  see  which  child  in  this 
class  is  able  to  make  the  best  exhibition  of  seed  food. 


3>^C 


AN    IMPATIENT    PLANT    BABY 

PLANT  babies  are  not  alike  as  to  the  time  they  take 
in   finding   their  way  out    of    the    ripe    seed    shell 
into  the  world. 

Certain  seeds  need  only  two  or  three  days  in  which 


92 

to  bring  forth  their  young.  Perhaps  we  ourselves  have 
seen  the  white  tip  of  the  bean  rip  open  its  shell  the 
second  or  third  day  after  being  laid  upon  the  moist 
cotton  wool.  But  if  we  had  not  given  this  bean  plant  a 
good  chance  to  grow,  it  would  have  kept  alive  and 
hearty  inside  its  shell  for  a  long  time.  This  is  not  the 
case  with  all  plants.  Certain  seeds  need  to  be  planted 
soon  after  thoy  are  ripe.  If  they  are  not  their  baby 
plants  die. 

But  usually  seeds  take  such  good  care  of  their  young, 
that  they  will  live  for  a  long  time,  even  if  shut  up  in  a 
dark  closet  or  a  table  drawer,  instead  of  being  comfort- 
ably laid  away  in  the  warm,  moist  earth. 

Wonderful  stories  are  told  of  seeds  that  have  sprouted 
after  having  lain  buried  in  some  Egyptian  tomb  for 
thousands  of  years  ;  but  the  people  best  fitted  to  judge 
of  the  truth  of  such  stories  do  not  believe  them.  There 
is  no  doubt,  however,  that  some  seeds  keep  their  baby 
plants  alive  for  many  years. 

Early  in  the  summer  the  seeds  of  the  red  maple  fall 
to  the  ground  ;  and  soon  after  this  the  young  plants  find 
their  way  up  into  the  world  above.  Later  in  the  year 
the  sugar  maple  sheds  its  seeds.  These  lie  sleeping  in 
the  earth  through  the  winter.  When  the  warm  spring 
days  come,  the  baby  plants  awake,  and  stretch  them- 
selves, and  join  the  hundreds  of  other,  just-awakened 
baby  plants  that  are  flocking  into  the  world  above.  So 
you  see  that  seeds  of  the  same  family  have  different 
habits  in  this  matter. 

There  is  one  curious  tree  that  lives  in  swamps  along 
the  seashore  of  hot  countries.      It  is  called  the  mangrove. 


93 


80TAJNY  LIBRARI 


Fig.   102 


The  baby  plants  of  this  tree  are  so  anxious  to  get  out 
into  the  world,  that  they  do  not  wait  until  the  seeds  in 
which  they  are  hidden  are  set  free  from  the  mangrove 
fruit. 

It  is  as  if  the  little  plants  inside  the  apple  seed  could 
not  wait  until  the  apple  flesh  should  be  eaten  or 
should  decay,  but  insisted  on  struggling  first  out  of 
the  seed  into  the  apple,  and  then  through  the  apple 
into  the  light  and  air. 

This  picture  (Fig.  102)  shows  you  the  mangrove 
fruit.  It  looks  more  like  a  pear  than  an  apple  In 
the  middle  of  this  lies  hidden  one  seed.  As  time 
goes  on,  this  grows  bigger  and  bigger,  trying  to  make 
room  for  the  impatient  little  plant  within  ;  but  it  does 
not  grow  fast  enough 
to  please  this  ambitious  /$^ 
young  one,  which  finally  ^r^ 
overcomes  the  difficulty 
by  piercing  the  seed  shell 
with  its  stem.  This  stem 
bores  its  way  right  down  through 
the  mangrove  fruit,  and  breaks  into 
the  outer  air.  It  keeps  on  growing 
in  this  way  for  many  weeks,  till  at  last  it  is  a 
foot  long  (Fig.  103).  Try  to  fancy  how  odd  a 
mangrove  tree  must  look  at  this  time,  covered 
with  mangroves,  from  each  one  projecting  this 
long  odd-looking  beak,  which  one  could  hardly 
guess  to  be  the  stem  of  the  baby  plant  within  the  fruit. 
We  read  that  these  long-beaked  fruits  bob  about  with 
every  breath  of  wind  in  a  fashion  that  gives  the  tree  a 


Fig.  io- 


94 

still  stranger  look  than  on  a  day  when  the  air  is  not 
stirring.  Picture  a  pear  tree  from  every  pear  of  which 
the  long  stem  of  a  baby  pear  tree  protrudes.  Would 
you  not  be  eager  to  find  one  of  these  pears  and  cut  it 
open,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  baby  plant  it  must  be  that 
could  send  out  such  a  great  stem  ? 

But  perhaps  the  strangest  part  of  the  story  is  yet  to 
come.  At  last  all  of  these  great  beaks  fall  away  from 
the  fruit ;  and  from  the  broken  top  of  each  grows  a 
little  bud,  such  as  you  see  in  the  picture  (Fig.  104). 
When  this  heavy  beak  falls  upon  the  muddy  ground 
below,  its  pointed  end  strikes  first,  and  so  bores  into  the 
earth. 

Fig  104  Even  if  it  happens  to  fall  into  the  water,  it  does  this 
with  so  much  force  that  it  will  pierce  its  way  to  the 
depth  of  eighteen  or  twenty  inches,  and  yet  remain 
standing  erect  when  it  strikes  bottom,  where  it  sends 
out  a  root.  When  it  has  secured  a  good  hold,  the  little 
bud  unfolds  into  four  leaves.  Above  these  grow  larger, 
shining  leaves  ;  and  soon  the  ground  beneath  an  old 
mangrove  tree  is  covered  with  these  daring  little 
adventurers. 

~o^<x> — 


A    HUMPBACKED    PLANT    BABY 

NOW  let  us  pause  for  a  moment,  and  try  to  recall 
a   little    of   what  we    have    learned    since   school 
opened. 

We  learned  that  the  fruit  of  a  plant  is  the  part  which 
holds  its  seed,  and  that  there  are  many  different  kinds 


95 

of  fruits  ;  that  the  burr  of  the  burdock,  the  pod  of  the 
milkweed,  the  puff  of  the  dandelion,  are  fruits,  as  well 
as  the  apple  and  the  pear,  the  acorn  and  the  walnut. 

We  learned  that  the  chief  importance  of  these  fruits 
lies  in  the  fact  just  mentioned,  that  they  hold  the  seeds 
of  the  plants. 

Then  we  learned  something  about  the  many  different 
kinds  of  seeds,  and  of  how  these  seeds  managed  to  be- 
come separated  from  the  parent  plant,  and  to  get  a  start 
in  life. 

Next  we  read  of  the  baby  plant  which  lies  hidden 
within  every  perfect  seed.  We  learned  how  this  is  kept 
safe  and  warm,  and  supplied  with  food,  and  how  at  last 
it  finds  its  way  out  of  the  seed  shell  into  the  world. 

If  you  have  been  using  this  book  in  the  right  way, 
not  only  have  you  read  about  these  things,  but  you  have 
seen  them  with  your  own  eyes. 

Some  of  the  fruits  you  have  tasted,  and  others  you 
have  handled. 

You  have  examined  the  silky  sails  of  the  seeds  which 
float  through  the  air,  and  the  hooks  and  claws  of  those 
little  tramps  that  manage  to  steal  free  rides. 

And  some  seeds  you  have  planted.  These  you  have 
watched  day  by  day,  and  you  have  seen  that  the  baby 
plants  burst  their  seed  shells  much  as  a  chick  bursts  its 
eggshell. 

Now  what  I  want  you  to  do  is  this  :  I  want  you 
to  study  carefully  the  different  parts  of  these  little 
creatures  that  are  living  out  their  strange,  beautiful  lives 
under  your  very  eyes.  I  want  you  to  watch  them  from 
day  to  day  ;  to  learn  how  they  eat  and  drink  and  work 


96 


and  grow,  until  you  feel    that  you    know  them    really 
well. 

First  let  us  look  at  this  bean  plant  which  is  breaking 
its  way  through  the  earth. 
Just  what  do  you  see  ? 

You  see  what  looks  like  a  thick,  green  hoop 
(Fig.  105),  do  you  not? 

What  is  it,  this  odd-looking  hoop  ? 
Perhaps  some  of  you  still  think  that  it  is  the 
root,  for  I  remember  that  I  too  once  supposed 
the  root  was  the  part  of  the  plant  which  first  left  the  bean. 


Fig.  105 


But  really  this 
made  by  the  bent 
that  this  is  the 
its  lower  end  grows 
from  its  upper  part 
flowers,   and  fruit. 


green     hoop     is 

stem.       We    know 

stem  because  from 

L,  the     root,     while 

'"    grow    the    leaves, 
Fig.  106 

Certainly  it  is  curious,  the  way  in  which  this  bean 
plant  comes  into  the  world.  Why  does  it  not  grow 
straight  up  and  down,  do  you  suppose  ? 
—  up  with  its  stem  and  leaves,  and 
down  with  its  root  ? 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  whenever 
some  habit  on  the  part  of  a  plant  has 
filled  us  with  surprise,  sooner   or  later   = 
we    have    discovered    that    the    plant's 
reason  for  it  was  a  good  one. 

What  reason  can  the  bean  plant  have  for  coming  into 
the  world  crooked  ? 

Before  reading  further,  try  to  think  this  out  for  your- 
selves.    Try  each  one  of  you  to  form  an  idea  of  what 


Fig.  107 


97 

the  bean  plant  gains  by  pushing  through  the  earth  with 
this  hooped  stem. 

I  hope  some  of  you  may  guess  correctly.  But  even 
if  you  have  not  been  successful  in  naming  the  cause  of 
the  bean  plant's  humped  back,  at  least  you  have  been 
working  your  brains  ;  and  every  time  you  do  this,  you 
help  to -keep  them  in  good  order. 

If  you  let  your  brain  lie  idle,  and  allow  your  teacher 
or  your  book  to  do  for  you  not  only  all  the  asking  of 
questions,  but  also  all  the  thinking-out  of  answers,  it 
will  get  as  dull  and  rusty  and  good  for  nothing  as  a 
machine  that  is  laid  by  for  a  long  time  gets  dull  and 
rusty  and  good  for  nothing. 

I  should  be  sorry  to  think  that  any  of  you  children 
were  carrying  about  in  your  heads  any  such  rusty,  good- 
for-nothing  brains.  So  if  you  wish  to  keep  them  bright 
and  clean,  and  in  good  working  order,  you  must  try  to 
do  your  own  thinking. 

And  now,  hoping  you  have  tried  to  guess  for  yourselves 
the  reason  of  this  crooked  back,  I  will  explain  it  to  you. 

But  first  handle  carefully  the  tip  of  one  of  the  upper 
leaves  on  the  larger  bean  plant.  You  see  how  delicate 
this  is. 

Then  feel  how  firm  and  hard  and  tough  is  the  green 
hoop  of  the  plant  which  is  just  breaking  through  the 
earth. 

Now  suppose  the  bean  plant  had  grown  straight  up 
into  the  air,  would  not  its  uppermost  part  have  been  the 
delicate  leaf  tips  ? 

Can  you  not  see  that  these  would  have  been  too  frail 
to  work  their  way  uninjured  through  the  earth  ? 

DANA'S  PLANTS.  —  7 


98 

But  by  crooking  its  stout  stem  the  plant  opened  quite 
easily  a  path  for  itself  and  for  its  leaves,  and  no  harm 
was  done  anywhere  (Figs.  106,  107).  Was  not  this  a 
clever  thought  ?  But  really  every  step  in  the  life  of 
the  plant  is  full  of  interest,  if  we  watch  it  with  sharp 
eyes  and  a  brain  in  good  order. 


Part  III  —  Roots  and  Stems 


>X«c 


ROOT    HAIRS 


CAREFULLY   pull   up    one    of   your   bean    plants 
and  look  at  its  root  (Fig.  108). 

You  see  that  the  root  grows  downward  from  the 
lower  part  of  the  stem. 

This  bean  root  looks  not  unlike  a  bunch 
of  dirty  threads,  some  quite  thick,  others 
very  thin.  If  you  look  at  these  thread-like 
roots  in  a  good  light,  perhaps  you  may  be 
able  to  see  growing  from  them  a  quantity  of 
tiny  hairs. 

Now,  what  is  the  use  of  such  a  root  as  this  ? 

Surely  some  of  you  are  able  to  guess  at 
the  object  of  this  root,  and  I  will  help  the 
others  to  the  answer. 

Give  a  firm  though  gentle  tug  to  one  of 
the  larger  plants,  —  one  of  those  that  are 
growing  in  the  pot  of  earth. 

Does  it  come  out  easily  in  your  fingers  ? 

Not  at  all.  Unless  you  have  been  really  rough,  and 
used  quite  a  good  deal  of  strength,  the  little  plant  has 
kept  its  hold. 

99 


Fig.   108 


100 

What  holds  it  down,  do  you  suppose  ? 

Ah !  Now  you  know  what  I  am  trying  to  get  at. 
Its  root  is  what  holds  it  in  place ;  and  this  holding  of 
the  plant  in  place  is  one  of  its  uses. 

Its  thread-like  branches  are  so  many  fingers  that  are 
laying  hold  of  the  earth.  Each  little  thread  makes  it 
just  so  much  the  more  difficult  to  uproot  the  plant. 

I  think  you  know  already  that  another  juse  of  the 
root  is  to  obtain  nourishment  for  the  plant. 

These  thread-like  roots,  you  notice,  creep  out  on 
every  side  in  their  search  for  food  and  drink.  The 
water  they  are  able  to  suck  in  easily  by  means  of  tiny 
mouths,  which  we  cannot  see.  But  the  plant  needs 
a  certain  amount  of  earth  food,  which  in  its  solid  state 
could  not  slip  down  these  root  throats  any  more  easily 
than  a  young  baby  could  swallow  a  lump  of  sugar. 

Now,  how  is  the  plant  to  get  this  food,  which  it  needs 
if  it  is  to  grow  big  and  hearty  ? 

Suppose  the  doctor  should  tell  your  mother  that  a 
lump  of  sugar  was  necessary  to  the  health  of  your  tiny 
baby  brother,  what  would  she  do  about  it  ? 

Would  she  put  the  great  lump  into  the  baby's  mouth  ? 

You  laugh  at  the  very  idea.  Such  a  performance 
might  choke  the  baby  to  death,  you  know  quite  well. 

Perhaps  you  think  she  would  break  the  lump  into 
small  pieces,  and  try  to  make  the  baby  swallow  these  ; 
but  even  these  small  pieces  might  prove  very  dangerous 
to  the  little  throat  that  had  never  held  a  solid  morsel. 

"  She  would  melt  the  sugar  in  water,  then  the  baby 
could  swallow  it,"  one  of  you  exclaims. 

That  is  exactly  what  she  would  do.      She  would  melt, 


IOI 

or  dissolve  as  we  say,  this  sugar  in  water.  Then  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  its  slipping  down  the  little 
throat ;  for  you  know  when  anything  is  thoroughly 
melted  or  dissolved,  it  breaks  up  into  such  tiny  pieces 
that  the  eye  cannot  see  them.  When  you  melt  a  lump 
of  sugar  in  a  glass  of  water,  the  sugar  is  all  there  as 
much  as  it  ever  was,  although  its  little  grains  no  longer 
cling  together  in  one  big  lump. 

And  so  when  the  plant  needs  some  food  that  the  little 
root  hairs  are  not  able  to  swallow,  it  does  just  what  the 
mother  does.  It  melts  or  dissolves  the  solid  food  so 
that  this  is  able  to  slip  quite  easily  down  the  root 
throats. 

But  how  does  it  manage  this  ? 

No  wonder  you  ask.  A  root  cannot  fill  a  glass  with 
water,  as  your  mother  did.  Even  if  it  could,  much  of 
this  solid  food  which  is  needed  by  the  plant  would  not 
melt  in  water,  or  in  anything  but  certain  acids ;  for  you 
know  that  not  everything  will  dissolve,  like  sugar,  in 
water. 

If  I  place  a  copper  cent  in  a  glass  of  water,  it  will 
remain  a  copper  cent,  will  it  not  ?  But  if  I  go  into  a 
drug  shop  and  buy  a  certain  acid,  and  place  in  this  the 
copper  cent,  it  will  dissolve  almost  immediately ;  that 
is,  it  will  break  up  into  so  many  tiny  pieces  that  you 
will  no  longer  see  anything  that  looks  at  all  like  a  cent. 

And  as  much  of  this  earth  food,  like  the  copper  cent, 
can  only  be  dissolved  in  certain  acids,  how  is  the  plant 
to  obtain  them  ?  Certainly  it  is  not  able  to  go  to  the 
drug  shop  for  the  purpose,  any  more  than  it  was  able 
to  fill  a  glass  with  water. 


102 

Fortunately  it  does  not  need  to  do  either  of  these 
things. 

If  you  will  look  closely  at  the  root  of  a  plant  that 
has  been  raised  in  water,  you  will  see  that  it  is  rough 
with  a  quantity  of  tiny  hairs.  These  little  hairs  hold 
the  acid  which  can  dissolve  the  solid  earth  food.  When 
they  touch  this  food,  they  send  out  some  of  the  acid, 
and  in  this  it  is  soon  dissolved.  Then  the  little  mouths 
suck  it  in,  and  it  is  carried  up  through  the  root  into  the 
rest  of  the  plant. 

Would  you  have  guessed  that  plants  were  able  to 
prepare  their  food  in  any  such  wonderful  way  as  this  ? 
It  surprised  me  very  much,  I  remember,  to  learn  that 
a  root  could  give  out  acids,  and  so  dissolve  the  earth 
food  it  needed. 


>xk< 


ROOTS    AND    UNDERGROUND    STEMS 

IN  the  last  chapter  you  learned  that  the  root  of  the 
bean  plant  has  two  uses. 

It  holds  the  plant  in  place,  and  it  provides  it  with 
food  and  drink.  Such  a  root  as  this  of  the  bean  plant 
—  one  that  is  made  up  of  what  looks  like  a  bunch  of 
threads  —  is  called  a  "fibrous"  root. 

The  next  picture  shows  you  the  root  of  a  beet  plant 
(Fig.  109). 

Such  a  thick,  fat  root  as  this  of  the  beet  is  called 
a  "fleshy"  root.  The  carrot,  turnip,  radish,  and  sweet 
potato,  all  have  fleshy  roots. 


io3 


This  beet  root,  like  that  of  the  bean,  is  useful  both 
in  holding  the  plant  in  place  and  in  providing  it  with 
food  and  drink. 

But  the  fleshy  root  of  the  beet  does  something  else,  — 
something  that  is  not  attempted  by  the  fibrous  root  of 
the  bean. 

Here  we  must  stop  for  a  moment 
and  look  into  the  life  of  the  beet 
plant. 

During  its  first  year,  the  beet  puts 
out  leaves ;  it  neither  flowers  nor 
fruits,  but  it  eats  and  drinks  a  great 
deal.  And  as  it  does  not  use  up  any 
of  this  food  in  flowering  or  fruiting, 
it  is  able  to  lay  by  much  of  it  in  its 
root,  which  grows  large  and  heavy  in 
consequence.  When  the  next  spring 
comes  on,  the  beet  plant  is  not  obliged, 
like  so  many  of  its  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, to  set  out  to  earn  its  living.  This 
is  provided  already.  And  so  it  bursts 
into  flower  without  delay,  its  food  lying 
close  at  hand  in  its  great  root. 

So  you  see  that  a  fleshy  root,  like 
that  of  the  beet,  does  three  things :  — 

i.    It  holds  the  plant  in  place. 

2.  It  provides  it  with  food  and 
drink. 

3.  It  acts  as  a  storehouse. 

These  plants  that  lay  by  food  for  another  year  are 
useful  as  food  for  man.     Their  well-stocked   roots   are 


:o4 


taken  out  of  the  ground  and  eaten  by  us  before  the 
plant  has  had  the  chance  to  use  up  its  food  in  fulfilling 
its  object  in  life,  that  of  fruiting. 
Of  course,  when  it  is  not  allowed 
to  live  long  enough  to  flower  and 
fruit,  it  brings  forth  no  young 
plants.  So  a  habit  which  at  first 
was  of  use  to  the  plant  becomes 
the  cause  of  its  destruction. 

Perhaps  you  think  that  the 
white  potato  (Fig.  1 10)  is  a  plant 
with  a  fleshy  root. 

If  so,  you  will  be  surprised  to 
learn  that  this  potato  is  not  a  root  at  all,  but 
a  stem. 

You  think  it  looks  quite  unlike  any  other 
stem  that  you  have  ever  seen.  Probably  you 
do  not  know  that  many  stems  grow  under- 
neath the  ground,  instead  of  straight  up  in 
the  air. 

If  you  find  something  in  the  earth  that  you 

take  to  be  a  root,  you  can  feel  pretty 
sure  that  it  really  is  a  stem,  if  it  bears 
anything  like  either  buds  or  leaves.  A 
true  root  bears  only  root  branches  and 
root  hairs.  But  in  this  white  potato 
we  find  what  we  call  "eyes."  These  eyes 
are  buds  from  which  new  potato  plants 
will  grow.  Close  to  these  are  little 
scales  which  really  are  leaves.  So  we  know  that  the 
potato   is   a  stem,  not  a  root.     But  this  you  could  not 


Fig.  hi 


io5 


have  found  out  for  yourselves,  even  with  the  sharpest 

of  eyes. 

Fig.   1 1 1  shows  you  the  thick,  fat,  underground  stem 

of    the    cyclamen.     From    its    lower    part 

grow  the  true  roots. 

Next  you  have  that  of  the  crocus  (Fig. 

112),  while  here  to  the  right  is  that  of  the 

wood    lily    (Fig.    113).       This    is    covered 

with  underground  leaves. 

All  these  stems  are  usually  called  roots. 

In  the  botanies  such  an  underground  stem 

as  that  of  the  Jack-in-the-pulpit  (Fig.  114) 

is  named  a  "corm,"  while  one  like  that  of 
the    crocus    is    called 
(Fig.  112).     All  have  a  somewhat 
rounded  shape. 

During  our  walks  in  the  woods 
last  fall,  often  we  found  the  Solo- 
mon's seal,  and  stopped  to  admire 
its  curved  stem,  hung  with  blue 
berries.  I  hope  one  of  you  boys 
whipped     out     your     pocketknife 

and  dug  into  the  earth  till  you  found  its  underground 

stem  (Fig.    115).     This  was  laid   lengthwise,  its 

roots  growing  from  its 

lower  side.     From  its 

upper    side,  close    to 

one   end,  sprang   the 

growing  plant.      But 

what     causes     those 

round,  curious-looking  scars  ? 


Fig.  114 


Fig.   115 


io6 

These  scars  are  what  give  the  plant  its  name  of  "  Solo- 
mon's seal."  They  are  supposed  to  look  like  the  mark 
left  by  a  seal  upon  wax. 

They  show  where  the  underground  stem  has  budded 
in  past  years,  sending  up  plants  which  in  turn  withered 
away.  Each  plant  has  left  a  scar  which  shows  one 
year  in  the  life  of  the  underground  stem. 

Next  spring  when  you  find  in  the  woods  the  little 
yellow  bells  of  the  Solomon's  seal,  I  think  you  will  have 
the  curiosity  to  dig  down  and  find  out  the  age  of  some 
of  these  plants. 

Another  plant  with  an  underground  stem  is  the  beau- 
tiful bloodroot.  As  its  name  tells  you,  this  so-called 
root  contains  a  juice  that  looks  something  like  blood. 
Such  underground  stems  as  those  of  the  Solomon's  seal 
and  bloodroot  are  called  "  rootstocks."  Rootstocks, 
corms,  and  bulbs  are  all  storehouses  of  plant  food, 
and  make  possible  an  early  flowering  the  following 
spring. 

ABOVE-GROUND    ROOTS 

BUT  before  we  finished  talking  about  roots  we  were 
led  away  by  underground  stems.  This  does  not 
matter  much,  however,  for  these  underground  stems  are 
still  called  roots  by  many  people. 

Just  as  stems  sometimes  grow  under  ground,  roots 
sometimes  grow  above  ground. 

Many  of  you  know  the  English  ivy.  This  is  one  of 
the  few  plants  which  city  children  know  quite  as  well 


IO/ 


Fig.  116 


as,  if  not  better  than,  country  children  ;  for  in  our  cities 
it  nearly  covers  the  walls  of  the  churches.  In  England 
it  grows  so  luxuriantly  that  some  of  the 
old  buildings  are  hidden  beneath  masses 
of  its  dark  leaves. 

This  ivy  plant  springs  from  a  root  in 
the  earth ;  but  as  it  makes  its  way  up- 
ward, it  clings  to  the  stone  wall  by  means 
of  the  many  air  roots  which  it  puts  forth 
(Fig.  1 1 6). 

Our  own  poison  ivy  is  another  plant 
with  air  roots  used  for  climbing  purposes. 
Often  these  roots  make  its  stem  look  as 
though  it  were  covered  with  a  heavy  growth  of  coarse  hair. 
There  are  some  plants  which  take  root  in  the 
branches  of  trees.  Many  members  of  the  Orchid  family 
perch  themselves  aloft  in  this 
fashion.  But  the  roots  which 
provide  these  plants  with  the 
greater  part  of  their  nourish- 
ment are  those  which  hang 
loosely  in  the  air.  One  of  these  orchids 
you  see  in  the  picture  (Fig.  117).  It  is 
found  in  warm  countries.  The  orchids 
of  our  part  of  the  world  grow  in  the 
ground  in  everyday  fashion,  and  look 
much  like  other  plants. 

These  hanging  roots  which  you  see  in 
the  picture  are  covered  with  a  sponge- 
like material,  by  means  of  which  they  suck  in  from  the 
air  water  and  gases. 


Fig.  117 


io8 


In  summer,  while  hunting  berries  or  wild  flowers  by 
the  stream  that  runs  through  the  pasture,  you  have 
noticed  that  certain  plants  seemed  to  be  caught  in  a 
tangle  of  golden  threads.  If  you  stopped  to  look  at 
this  tangle,  you  found  little  clusters  of  white  flowers 
scattered  along  the  thread-like  stems  (Fig.  118);  then, 
to  your  surprise,  you  discovered  that  nowhere  was  this 

odd-looking   stem   fastened 
to  the  ground. 

It  began  and  ended  high 
above  the  earth,  among  the 
plants  which  crowded  along 
the  brook's  edge. 

Perhaps  you  broke  off 
one  of  these  plants  about 
which  the  golden  threads 
were  twining.  If  so,  you 
found  that  these  threads  were  fastened  firmly  to  the 
plant  by  means  of  little  roots  which  grew  into  its  stem, 
just  as  ordinary  roots  grow  into  the  earth. 
This  strange  plant  is  called  the  "  dodder^'  When  it 
was  still  a  baby  plant,  it  lay  within  its  seed  upon  the 
ground,  just  like  other  baby  plants  ;  and  when  it  burst 
its  seed  shell,  like  other  plants  it  sent  its  roots  down 
into  the  earth. 

But  unlike  any  other  plant  I  know  of,  it  did  not  send 
up  into  the  air  any  seed  leaves.  The  dodder  never 
bears  a  leaf. 

It  sent  upward  a  slender  golden  stem.  Soon  the 
stem  began  to  sweep  slowly  through  the  air  in  circles, 
as  if    searching    for   something.     Its   movements  were 


109 

like  those  of  a  blind  man  who  is  feeling  with  his  hands 
for  support.  And  this  is  just  what  the  plant  was  doing: 
it  was  feeling  for  support.  And  it  kept  up  its  slow 
motion  till  it  found  the  plant  which  was  fitted  to  give 
it  what  it  needed. 

Having  made  this  discovery,  it  put  out  a  little  root. 
This  root  it  sent  into  the  juicy  stem  of  its  new-found 
support.  And  thereafter,  from  its  private  store,  the 
unfortunate  plant  which  had  been  chosen  as  the  dod- 
der's victim  was  obliged  to  give  food  and  drink  to  its 
greedy  visitor. 

And  now  what  does  this  dodder  do,  do  you  suppose  ? 
Perhaps  you  think  that  at  least  it  has  the  grace  to  do 
a  little  something  for  a  living,  and  that  it  makes  its 
earth  root  supply  it  with  part  of  its  food. 

Nothing  of  the  sort.  Once  it  finds  itself  firmly  rooted 
in  the  stem  of  its  victim,  it  begins  to  grow  vigorously. 
With  every  few  inches  of  its  growth  it  sends  new  roots 
deep  into  this  stem.  And  when  it  feels  quite  at  home, 
and  perfectly  sure  of  its  board,  it  begins  to  wither  away 
below,  where  it  is  joined  to  its  earth  root.  Soon  it 
breaks  off  entirely  from  this,  and  draws  every  bit  of 
its  nourishment  from  the  plant  or  plants  in  which  it 
is  rooted. 

Now  stop  a  moment  and  think  of  the  almost  wicked 
intelligence  this  plant  has  seemed  to  show,  —  how  it 
keeps  its  hold  of  the  earth  till  its  stem  has  found  the 
plant  which  will  be  compelled  to  feed  it,  and  how  it 
gives  up  all  pretense  of  self-support,  once  it  has  cap- 
tured its  prey. 

You  have  heard  of  men  and  women  who  do  this  sort 


no 


of  thing,  —  who  shirk  all  trouble,  and  try  to  live  on  the 
work  of  others ;  and  I  fear  you  know  some  boys  and 
girls  who  are  not  altogether  unlike  the  dodder,  —  boys 
and  girls  who  never  take  any  pains  if  they  can  possibly 
help  it,  who  try  to  have  all  of  the  fun  and  none  of  the 
work ;  but  did  you  ever  suppose  you  would  come  across 
a  plant  that  would  conduct  itself  in  such  a  fashion  ? 

Of  course,  when  the  dodder 
happens  to  fasten  itself  upon 
some  wild  plant,  little  harm  is 
done.  But  unfortunately  it  is 
very  partial  to  plants  that  are 
useful  to  men,  and  then  we 
must  look  upon  it  as  an  enemy. 
Linen  is  made  from  the  flax 
plant,  and  this  flax  plant  is  one 
of  the  favorite  victims  of  the 
dodder.  Sometimes  it  will  at- 
tack and  starve  to  death  whole 
fields  of  flax. 

But  do  not  let  us  forget  that 
we  happen  to  be  talking  about 
the  dodder  because  it  is  one  of 
the  plants  which  put  out  roots  above  ground. 

There  is  one  plant  which  many  of  you  have  seen,  that 
never,  at  any  time  of  its  life,  is  rooted  in  the  earth,  but 
which  feeds  always  upon  the  branches  of  the  trees  in 
which  it  lives. 

This  plant  (Fig.  119)  is  one  of  which  perhaps  you 
hear  and  see  a  good  deal  at  Christmas  time.  It  is  an 
old  English  custom,  at  this  season,  to  hang  somewhere 


I II 

about  the  house  a  mistletoe  bough  (for  the  mistletoe  is 
the  plant  I  mean)  with  the  understanding  that  one  is 
free  to  steal  a  kiss  from  any  maiden  caught  beneath  it. 
And  as  mistletoe  boughs  are  sold  on  our  street  corners 
and  in  our  shops  at  Christmas,  there  has  been  no  diffi- 
culty in  bringing  one  to  school  to-day. 

The  greenish  mistletoe  berries  are  eaten  by  birds. 
Often  their  seeds  are  dropped  by  these  birds  upon  the 
branches  of  trees.  There  they  hold  fast  by  means  of 
the  sticky  material  with  which  they  are  covered.  Soon 
they  send  out  roots  which  pierce  the  bark,  and,  like  the 
roots  of  the  dodder,  suck  up  the  juices  of  the  tree,  and 
supply  the  plant  with  nourishment. 

Then  there  are  water  roots  as  well  as  earth  roots. 
Some  of  these  water  roots  are  put  forth  by  plants  which 
are  nowhere  attached  to  the  earth.  These  are  plants 
which  you  would  not  be  likely  to  know  about.  One  of 
them,  the  duckweed,  is  very  common  in  ponds ;  but  it 
is  so  tiny  that  when  you  have  seen  a  quantity  of  these 
duckweeds,  perhaps  you  have  never  supposed  them  to 
be  true  plants,  but  rather  a  green  scum  floating  on  the 
top  of  the  water. 

But  the  duckweed  is  truly  a  plant.  It  has  both 
flower  and  fruit,  although  without  a  distinct  stem  and 
leaves ;  and  it  sends  down  into  the  water  its  long,  hang- 
ing roots,  which  yet  do  not  reach  the  ground. 

There  are  other  plants  which  have  at  the  same  time 
underground  roots  and  water  roots. 

Rooted  in  the  earth  on  the  borders  of  a  stream  some- 
times you  see  a  willow  tree  which  has  put  out  above- 
ground  roots.     These  hang  over  the  bank  and  float  in 


I  12 

the  water,  apparently  with  great  enjoyment;  for  roots 
not  only  seem  to  seek  the  water,  but  to  like  it,  and  to 
flourish  in  it. 

If  you  break  off  at  the  ground  one  of  your  bean 
plants,  and  place  the  slip  in  a  glass  of  water,  you  will 
see  for  yourselves  how  readily  it  sends  out  new  roots. 

I  have  read  of  a  village  tree  the  roots  of  which  had 
made  their  way  into  a  water  pipe.  Here  they  grew 
so  abundantly  that  soon  the  pipe  was  entirely  choked. 
This  rapid,  luxuriant  growth  was  supposed  to  have  been 
caused  by  the  water  within  the  pipe. 

So  you  see  there  are  underground  roots  and  above- 
ground  roots  and  water  roots.  Usually,  as  you  know, 
the  underground  roots  get  their  food  from  the  earth  ; 
but  sometimes,  as  with  the  Indian  pipe,  they  feed  on 
dead  plants,  and  sometimes,  as  with  the  yellow  false 
foxglove,  on  other  living  roots. 


3>^< 


WHAT    FEW    CHILDREN    KNOW 

TO-DAY  we  must  take  another  look  at  the  plants 
in  the  schoolroom  garden. 
By  this  time  some  of   them   have   grown   quite   tall. 
Others  are  just  appearing  above  the  earth. 

Here  is  a  young  morning-glory  (Fig.  120).  We  see 
that  its  stem,  like  that  of  the  bean,  was  the  first  thing 
to  come  out  of  the  seed.  This  stem  has  turned  down- 
ward into  the  earth.  From  its  lower  end  grows  the 
root,  which  buries  itself  deeper  and  deeper. 


H3 


An  older  plant  shows  us  that  the  upper  part  of  the 
stem  straightens  itself  out  and  grows  upward,  bear- 
ing with  it  a  pair  of  leaves  (Fig.  121). 

From  between  these  starts  a  tiny  bud,  that  soon 
unfolds  into  a  fresh  leaf,  which  is  carried  upward  by 
a  new  piece  of  stem. 

On  the  tip  of  this  new  piece  of  stem  grows 
another  bud,  which  also  enlarges  into  a  leaf,  and  in 
the  same  way  as  before  is  borne  upward  (Fig.  122). 

In  this  fashion  the  plant  keeps  growing  big- 
ger and  bigger.      Soon  branches  start  from  the 
sides  of  the  stem,  and  later  flowers  and  fruits. 
So  we  see  that  it  is  the  stem  which  bears  all 
the  other  parts  of  the  plant. 

Most    people    think    that   the    plant    springs 

from  the   root ;   but  you  children  know  better. 

With  your   own   eyes,  here  in  the  schoolroom, 

you  have  seen  that  instead  of  the  stem  growing 

from  the  root,  the  root  grows  from  the  stem. 

That  more  people  have  not  found  this  out, 

is  because  they  do  not  use  their  eyes  rightly. 

Every  spring  hundreds  and  thousands   of 

baby  plants  make  their  way  out  of  the  seed 

shell  into  the  world,  just  as  you  saw  the  baby 

bean  plant  do,  sending  out  first  its  little  stem. 

which  pointed  downward  into  the  earth  and  FlG-  I2 

started  a  root.     And  every  spring  there  are  hundreds 

of  thousands  of  men  and  women,  and  boys  and  girls, 

who  go  through  the  woods  and  fields,  and  across  the' 

parks  and  along  the  streets,  as  though  they  were  blind, 

taking  no  notice  of  the  wonders  all  about  them. 


Fig.  120 


Fig.   121 


ANA'S    PLANTS. 


PLANTS   THAT   CANNOT 
STAND   ALONE 

ALREADY  we  have  learned  that 
some  stems  grow  under  ground, 
and  that  by  most  people  these  are 
called  roots. 

And  among  those  which  grow 
above  the  ground  we  see  many  dif- 
ferent kinds. 

The  stem  of  Indian  corn  grows 
straight  up  in  the  air,  and  needs  no 
help  in  standing  erect. 

Fig.    123  shows  you  the  morning- 
glory  plant,  the  stem  of  which  is 
unable  to  hold  itself  upright  with- 
out  assistance.      A   great  many 
plants    seem   to  need  this   same 
sort  of  help ;  and  it    is   very  in- 
teresting to  watch  their  behavior. 
The    stem   of    the    young    morning- 
glory  sweeps   slowly  through  the   air   in 
circles,  in  search  of  some  support. 
You  remember  that  the  curious  dodder 
acted  in  this  same  way,  and  that  its  movements 
reminded  us  of  the  manner  in  which   a  blind 
man   feels   about   him 
"4 


H5 


Fig.  123 


When  the  morning-glory  finds  just  the  support  it 
needs,  it  lays  hold  of  it,  and  twists  about  it,  and  then 
climbs  upward  with  great  satisfaction. 

I  want  you   to  watch  this  curious  performance.     It 
is    sure    to    amuse    you.      The    plant 
seems    to    know    so    well    what    it    is 
about,   and    it    acts   so   sensibly  when 
it  finds  what  it  wants. 

But  if  it  happens  to  meet  a  glass 
tube,  or  something  too  smooth  to  give 
it  the  help  it  needs,  it  slips  off  it,  and 
seems  almost  as  discouraged  as  a  boy 
would  be  who  fails  in  his  attempt  to 
climb  a  slippery  tree  or  telegraph  pole. 
The  bean  is  another  plant  whose 
stem  is  not  strong  enough  to  hold  it  erect  without  help. 
But,  unlike  the  morning-glory,  the  stem  of 
the  bean  does  not  twist  about  the  first 
stick  it  finds.  Instead  it  sends  out  many 
shorter  stems  which  do  this  work  of  reach- 
ing after  and  twining  about  some  support. 
In  this  same  wTay  the  pea  is  able  to  hold 
up  its  head  in  the  world. 

Other  plants  are  supported  by  their  leaf- 
stalks. These  twist  about  whatever  sticks 
or  branches  they  can  find,  and  so  prevent 
the  plant  from  falling.  The  picture  (Fig. 
124)  shows  you  how  the  garden  nightshade  climbs  by 
its  leafstalk.  The  beautiful  clematis  clambers  all  over 
the  roadside  thicket  in  the  same  way. 

The    English    ivy   and    the   poison   ivy,   as  we    have 


Fig.  124 


n6 

learned  already,  climb  by  the  help  of  roots  which  their 
stems  send  out  into  the  trunks  of  trees  and  the  crevices 
of  buildings. 

The  stems  of  the  Virginia  creeper  and  of  the  Japa- 
nese ivy  give  birth  to  smaller  stems,  such  as  you  see  in 
the  picture  below.  When  the  tips  of  these  reach  the  wall, 
or  the  tree  trunk  up  which  the  plant  is  trying  to  climb, 
they  broaden  out  into  little  flat,  round  plates,  which, 
like  tiny  claws,  cling  to  the  surface  (Fig.  125). 

I  hope  your  teacher  will  tell  you  where  you  can  find 
one  of  these  two  plants,  for  in  the  country 
the  creeper  is  plentiful,  and  the  Japanese  ivy 
is  planted  freely  in  our  cities;  and  I  hope 
you  will  go  and  see  how  firmly  these  little 
flattened  stems  cling  to  the  wall  or  to  the 
tree  trunk.  Try  gently  to  pull  off  one  of 
these  determined  little  stems,  and  I  think 
you  will  admire  it  for  its  firm  grip. 

There    are    other    than    climbing     plants 
whose  stems  are  not  strong  enough  to  stand 
up  straight  without  help. 

Think  of  the  beautiful  water  lily.  If  you  have  ever 
spent  a  morning  in  a  boat  (as  I  hope  you  have,  for  it  is 
a  delightful  way  to  spend  a  morning)  hunting  water 
lilies,  you  will  remember  that  these  flowers  float  on  top 
of  the  water ;  and  when  you  reach  over  to  pick  them, 
you  find  the  tall  flower  stems  standing  quite  erect  in 
the  water. 

But  what  happened  when  you  broke  them  off,  and 
held  them  in  your  hand  ? 

Why,  these  long  stems  proved  to  have  no  strength  at 


H7 

all.  They  flopped  over  quite  as  helplessly  as  the 
morning-glory  vine  would  do  if  you  unwound  it  from  the 
wires  up  which  it  was  climbing ;  and  you  saw  that  they 
had  only  been  able  to  stand  up  straight  because  of  the 
help  the  water  had  given  them. 


SOME    HABITS    OF    STEMS 

BESIDE  the  stems  which  stand  erect  without  help 
(like  that  of  the  corn),  and  those  which  climb  by 
means  of  some  support  (like  those  of  the  morning-glory 
and  bean),  and  those  which  are  held  up  by  the  water 
(like  that  of  the  water  lily),  there  are  stems  which  slant 
upward  (like  that  of  the  red  clover),  stems  which  lie 
upon  the  ground  (like  that  of  the  snowberry),  and  stems 
which  creep  (that  is,  which  run  along  the  ground),  and 
which  strike  root,  and  so  give  rise  to  new  plants  (like 
those  of  the  white  clover  and  strawberry). 

With  the  new  plants  you  meet,  try  always  to  notice  to 
which  of  these  different  classes  their  stems  belong  ;  for 
later,  when  you  wish  to  use  the  botany  and  to  learn  the 
names  of  the  plants,  this  habit  of  noticing  things  will 
help  you  greatly. 

Then,  too,  with  every  new  plant,  you  should  find  out 
whether  its  stem  is  round  or  square,  and  whether  it  is 
smooth  or  hairy,  or  if  it  is  at  all  thorny. 

The  thorns  and  hairs  which  some  plants  scatter  over 
their  stems  protect  them  from  animals  and  insects, 
which  might  otherwise  do  them  an  injury. 

By  the  thorns  little  snails  are  prevented  from  climb- 


n8 

ing  up  the  stems  and  eating  away  the  green  leaves 
above  ;  and  the  cows  and  horses  are  pretty  sure  to  leave 
the  thorny  plants  well  alone.  It  is  easy  to  understand 
why  we  find  thistle  plants  growing  thickly  in  the  pas- 
ture, which  is  nearly  bare  of  everything  else.  Long  ago 
these  thistles  clothed  themselves  in  an  armor  of  prickles, 
and  ever  since  they  have  been  successful  in  waging  war 
against  the  cattle. 

Sometimes  a  tree  will  cover  its  lower  part  only  with 
thorns.     Why  is  this,  do  you  suppose  ? 

This  is  because  only  the  lower  branches  are  within 
reach  of  the  cattle.  Only  these  have  any  need  of  a  suit 
of  thorns.  The  wild  pear,  which  grows  in  Europe,  is 
such  a  tree  as  this. 

A  stem  that  is  covered  with  hairs,  and  also  one  that 
is  sticky  in  spots,  serves  to  protect  its  flowers  from  an 
attack  by  ants,  or  by  other  insects  that  might  do  them 
harm  ;  for  these  flowers,  you  remember,  hold  the  golden 
dust  which  works  such  wonders  when  carried  to  another 
flower.  And  you  recall,  that,  when  bees  go  to  plants  for 
the  sweet  stuff  from  which  honey  is  made,  they  carry 
this  flower  dust  from  blossom  to  blossom.  But  if  the 
sweet  stuff  is  given  up  to  greedy  insects,  then  this  good 
work  is  not  done  ;  for  the  bees  get  disgusted,  and  stop 
visiting  the  plants  which  do  not  take  more  pains  to 
please  them.  And  so  oftentimes  the  plant  covers  its 
stem  with  hairs  or  with  sticky  drops,  so  that  the  med- 
dlesome little  thieves  cannot  get  up  to  the  blossom  at  all. 

So  if  you  pick  a  flower  which  leaves  your  fingers 
sticky,  you  must  remember  that  the  plant  is  only  doing 
its  duty  in  trying  to  please  the  bees. 


ii9 

Although  I  have  seen  these  plants  do  so  many  queer 
things  that  I  am  learning  not  to  be  surprised  at  their 
clever  ways,  I  must  own  that  I  was  a  little  astonished 
to  see  how  anxious  one  of  them  was  to  save  itself  un- 
necessary trouble. 

There  is  a  plant  called  the  ''amphibious  knotweed." 
This  is  a  rather  difficult  name,  I  know.  This  word 
"amphibious"  is  applied  to  something  that  can  live 
both  in  water  and  on  land ;  and  this  plant  grows  some- 
times in  the  pond  or  river,  and  sometimes  on  the  shore. 

When  on  land,  its  stem  is  covered  with  the  hairs 
which  serve  to  keep  meddlesome  insects  from  climbing 
up  to  its  pretty  balls  of  pink  flowers.  In  the  water 
there  is  no  danger  of  any  such  attack  from  insects ;  and 
so  when  it  happens  to  grow  in  the  pond  or  river,  this 
knowing  little  plant  does  not  trouble  itself  to  clothe 
with  hairs  its  stem,  but  leaves  this  quite  smooth. 

Next  summer  I  hope  you  will  hunt  up  the  amphibious 
knotweed,  and  will  compare  the  smooth  water  stem  with 
the  hairy  one  that  grows  on  land. 


**;< 


STEMS   AND    SEED    LEAVES 

THE  smaller  plants  usually  have  green  stems.  The 
larger  ones  have  brown,  woody  stems,  such  as  you 
see  in  bushes  and  trees ;  for  the  trunk  of  the  biggest 
tree  in  the  world  is  nothing  but  a  great  stem. 

The  delicate  green   stems  die  down  to  the  ground 
during  the   cold   winter.     Sometimes    the   whole    plant 


120 


Fig.   126 


dies,  the  root  below  as  well  as  the  stem  above  ground. 
But  often  the  root  (or  what  we  usually  call  the  root) 
lives,  and  sends  up  a  fresh  stem  the  next  year. 

But  the  woody  stems  live  through  the  winter,  and 
put  out  fresh  leaves  and  branches  the  next  spring. 

Without  a  magnifying  glass,  it  is  difficult  to  see  of 
just  what  the  green  stems  of  the  small  plants  are  made 
up  ;  and  these  you  can  pass  by  for  the  present.  But 
if  your  teacher  will  cut  across  the  stem  of  a  large  rose, 
you  can  see  here  an  outer  covering,  the  green  skin; 
within  this,  a  ring  of  woody  material ;  and  in 
the  center  of  the  stem,  a  soft  white  stuff  called 
"pith." 

When  we  were  reading  about  seed  leaves,  I 
told  you  that  by  the  stem  and  leaves  of  a  plant 
you  could  tell  whether  it  brought  into  the  world 
more  than  one  seed  leaf. 

Now,  when  a  stem  like  that  of  the  rose  is 
divided  into  three  well-defined  parts,  —  the  skin, 
or  bark,  outside  ;  next  the  woody  part ;  and  the 
soft  white  pith  in  the  middle,  —  then  you  can  be 
pretty  sure  that  the  plant  had  more  than  one  seed  leaf. 
This  picture  (Fig.  126)  shows  you  a  section  of  a  corn- 
stalk. Here  you  do  not  see  the  three  parts  that  were 
so  plain  in  the  rose  stem,  for  the  woody  part  is  not 
gathered  together  in  a  ring:  it  is  scattered  through  the 
soft  part,  so  that  you  cannot  distinguish  the  one  from 
the  other. 

Running  lengthwise  you  see  the  scattered  bundles  of 
woody  threads,  the  cut  ends  of  which  give  the  dotted 
look  on  top. 


I2T 


Now,  such  a  stem  as  this  of  the  corn  shows  you  that 
the  plant  was  born  with  only  one  seed  leaf. 

Try  to  remember  the  difference  between  these  two 
stems. 

This  next  picture  (Fig.  127)  shows 
a  part  of  the  trunk  or  stem  of  the  fir 
tree. 

The  dark  outside  circle  is  the  bark. 
The  rings  within  this  are  the  wood. 
Each  year  one  of  these  woody  rings  is 
added   to   the  tree,  the  last  ring  of  all 
lying  next  to  the  bark  ;  so,  if  you  count 
these,  you  can  find  out  how  many  years  the  tree  has  lived. 
In  the  center  we  see  the  soft  stuff  called  pith. 
What  do  these  three  divisions  show  ? 
The  trunk  of  the  palm  in  the  next  picture  (Fig.  128)  is 
like  the  stem  of  the  corn.     The  wood  is  not  gathered  in 
rings,  but  is  scattered  through  the  soft  part  in  thread-like 
bundles,  so  that  we  cannot  tell  just  the  age  of  the  tree. 
And  what  else  do  you  know  about  the  palm  ? 

Why,  you  know  that  it  came  into 
the  world  with  but  one  seed  leaf.  If 
it  had  had  more  than  one,  its  stems 
would  have  had  woody  rings  such  as 
we  see  in  the  fir. 

In  the  schoolroom  you  cannot  see 
palms  and  firs ;  but  you  can  find  a  log 
in  a  wood  pile  which  will  show  you 
just  such  woody  rings  as  prove  that  the  fir  tree  had 
more  than  one  seed  leaf. 

And  you  can  look  at  a  stalk  brought  from  the  corn- 


Fig.  128 


122 


field  that  will  show  you  how  the  trunk  of  the  palm  tells 
us  that  this  tree  began  life  with  only  one  seed  leaf. 


3XKC 


"WELL    DONE,   LITTLE    STEM" 

IT  is  wonderful  how  much  there  is  to  learn  about 
everything. 

We  began  this  book  with  an  apple,  and  I  had  no 
more  idea  than  you  that  that  apple  was  going  to  keep 
us  busy  for  days. 

And  then  the  apple  reminded  us  of  its  cousins,  the 
pear  and  plum  and  peach  and  cherry  and  rose.  And 
if  we  had  not  stopped  short,  we  should  have  been  intro- 
duced to  so  many  more  cousins  that  we  should  have 
had  neither  room  nor  time  for  anything  else. 

From  fruits  we  went  to  seeds. 

At  first  it  seemed  almost  as  though  we  ought  to 
finish  up  the  seeds  in  two  or  three  readings ;  but  this 
did  not  prove  to  be  the  case. 

The  mere  naming  of  the  different  ways  in  which 
seeds  went  traveling,  covered  so  many  pages  that  it 
was  all  we  could  do  to  find  time  to  tell  how  a  few  of 
the  baby  plants  were  cared  for,  and  how  they  made 
their  way  out  of  the  seed  shell  into  the  world. 

But  when  we  came  to  roots,  we  felt  there  would  be 
no  temptation  to  loiter  by  the  way,  for  roots  seemed 
rather  dismal  things  to  talk  about.  Yet  it  took  some 
little  time  to  show  the  different  uses  of  a  root,  and  to 
talk  about  air  roots  and  water  roots,  as  well  as  earth 


123 

roots.  It  was  not  altogether  easy  to  make  clear  just 
how  the  little  root  hairs  keep  acids  on  hand  in  which 
to  melt  the  solid  earth  food  which  their  throats  are  too 
delicate  to  swallow.  And  it  was  quite  a  long  story 
when  we  came  to  the  dodder,  which  roots  in  the  stems 
of  living  plants,  and  steals  all  its  food  from  them ; 
and  to  those  orchids  whose  long  roots  swing  from  tree 
branches  and  draw  their  nourishment  from  the  air. 

About  stems,  however,  even  I  felt  a  little  discouraged  ; 
for  though  it  is  from  the  stem  that  all  other  parts  of 
a  plant  grow,  yet  it  is  not  looked  upon  generally  as 
an  interesting  object  wrhen  studied  by  itself ;  and  I  dare 
say  you  children  still  feel  that  stems  are  less  amusing 
than  fruits,  or  seeds,  or  roots. 

Still  we  can  hardly  help  admiring  the  way  in  which  a 
stem,  when  it  lies  underground,  like  that  of  the  lily  or 
the  Jack-in-the-pulpit,  makes  its  food  so  carefully  all 
through  the  summer,  and  waits  so  patiently  through  the 
long  winter  in  order  to  help  its  plant  to  burst  into  flower, 
and  to  ripen  into  fruit  as  soon  as  possible,  and  without 
more  labor  and  food  hunting  when  the  spring  comes. 

When  a  stem,  like  that  of  the  morning-glory,  sweeps 
slowly  and  carefully  through  the  air  in  search  of  some- 
thing to  lay  hold  of  in  its  efforts  to  climb  upward,  and 
when,  on  finding  this  support,  it  makes  such  good  use 
of  it,  we  feel  inclined  to  say,  "Well  done,  little  stem." 

And  when  a  stem  on  land  knows  how  to  keep  off 
meddlers,  yet  has  the  wisdom  not  to  take  unnecessary 
trouble  when  afloat,  like  that  of  the  amphibious  knot- 
weed,  then  we  feel  that  a  plant  gives  its  stem,  as  well 
as  its  other  parts,  a  large  supply  of  common  sense. 


124 

There  is  a  great  deal  more  that  might  be  said  on  this 
subject.  What  a  plant  lives  on,  what  it  eats  and  drinks 
and  breathes,  is  very  interesting  to  learn  about.  And 
of  course  the  food  taken  in  by  the  roots  must  be  carried 
upward  through  the  stem.  But  to  write  simply  about 
this  is  difficult.  As  much  as  I  think  most  of  you  can 
understand,  I  will  tell  you  when  we  take  up  leaves. 


Part   IV  —  Buds 


3>*K< 


BUDS    IN    WINTER 

WHEN  school  opened  in  September,  all  the  trees 
were  covered  with  leaves  ;  and  some  of  these 
trees  were  bent  with  their  burden  of  pears  and  apples 
and  peaches,  while  others  were  hung  with  prickly  chest- 
nut burrs  or  with  acorns  or  walnuts. 

But  now  all  is  changed.  The  woods  look  gray  and 
bare ;  for  nearly  all  the  leaves  have  fallen  save  those 
ot  the  oak,  which  are  still  holding  fast  to  the  branches. 
These  oak  leaves  are  brown  and  stiff  and  leathery.  They 
crackle  and  rustle  when  the  wind  blows  through  them. 

In  the  city  squares  you  see  the  same  change,  —  bare 
branches  in  place  of  green  leaves. 

At  this  season  it  is  hardly  worth  while,  perhaps  you 
think,  to  go  to  the  woods  or  to  the  park ;  for  there  is 
nothing  to  be  seen,  —  no  leaves,  no  flowers,  almost  no 
fruits.     Better  wait  till  spring  for  any  such  expedition. 

Here  you  are  wrong.  Provided  you  know  what  to 
look  at,  and  how  to  look  at  it,  there  is  no  month  of  the 
year  when  the  woods  and  parks  are  not  full  of  interest. 

And  so  at  this  season,  when  the  trees  are  bare  of 
leaves,  better  than  at  any  other,  certain  things  can  be 
studied. 

125 


126 

I  have  asked  your  teacher  to  bring  to  school  to-day 
branches  from  the  different  trees  which  are  looking  so 
cold  and  lonely.  It  is  nearly  always  possible  to  find 
the  horse-chestnut,  the  maple,  or  the  cherry  ;  and  we 
will  talk  especially  about  these  branches. 

On  your  way  to  school,  perhaps  you  pass  every  day  a 
horse-chestnut  tree ;  but  its  branches  are  so  far  above 
vour  heads  that  you  may  never  have  noticed  that  in 
winter  the  leafless  twigs  bear  just  such  buds  as  you  see 
in  the  picture  (Fig.  129),  and  on  the  branch  which  is 
before  you. 

The  largest  bud  grows  on  top.  This  is  where  the 
beautiful  flower  cluster  that  comes  out  in  May  lies 
hidden. 

The  smaller  buds  that  grow  lower  down  the  stem 
hold  only  leaves.  You  see  that  these  buds  grow  in 
pairs,  one  bud  opposite  another,  and  always  above  a 
sort  of  scar  on  the  twig.  This  scar  was  made  last 
fall  by  the  breaking-off  of  a  leaf. 

Perhaps  you  fancy  that  these  buds  have  only  just 
made  their  appearance. 

If  you  have  any  such  idea  as  that,  you  are  quite 
wrong.  Last  summer,  when  the  leaves  were  large  and 
fresh,  the  little  buds,  that  were  not  to  unfold  for  nearly 
a  year,  began  to  form,  growing  somewhat  larger  as  the 
weeks  went  by,  and  folding  themselves  tightly  in  the 
brown,  leathery  wrappings  that  were  to  keep  them  safe 
from  the  cold  of  winter. 

I  should  like  you  to  pill  off  these  wrappings,  and 
see  how  well  the  horse-chei-tnut  tree  defends  from  cold 
its  baby  leaves. 


127 

First  you  find  about  seven  of  these  outside  wrappings. 
The  very  outer  ones  are  thick  and  brown,  and  covered 
with  the  sticky  stuff  that  makes  them  proof  against 
rain. 

The  next  ones  are  brown  and  thick  where  their  tips 
are  exposed  to  the  air,  while  the  inner  ones  are  green 
and  delicate.  But  altogether  they  make  a  warm,  snug 
covering  for  young  leaves  and  flowers. 

As  for  the  baby  leaves  themselves,  they  are  all  done 
up  in  a  furry  stuff  that  keeps  them  from  catching  cold, 
even  if  a  gust  of  wind  or  a  few  drops  of  rain  should 
manage  to  make  a  way  through  the  waterproof  and 
almost  air-tight  wrappings. 

So  you  see  that  the  leaves  and  branches  and  young 
flowers  of  a  plant  or  tree  are  looked  after  just  as  care- 
fully as  is  the  seed  within  the  seed  case,  or  the  baby 
plant  in  its  seed  shell. 


D^C 


A    HAPPY    SURPRISE 

HERE  you  see  a  branch  from  the  red  maple  (Fig. 
130). 

On  the  flowering  shoots  three  buds  grow  side  by  side. 
The  middle,  smaller  one  holds  the  leaves.  These  leaves 
do  not  appear  until  the  two  outer,  larger  buds  have 
burst  into  flower  clusters  ;  for  the  flowers  of  the  red 
maple  appear  before  its  leaves. 

I  want  you  to  bring  to  school  as  many  different  kinds 
of  branches  as  you  can  find,  and  I  hope  you  will  examine  Fig 


128 

them  all  very  carefully.  Notice  the  position  of  their 
buds,  and  whether  these  grow  close  together  or  are  scat- 
tered far  apart,  and  whether  one  bud  grows  just  oppo- 
site another ;  and  look  for  the  marks  left  by  the  leaves 
which  broke  off  last  fall. 

When  the  buds  are  large  enough,  you  will  find  it 
interesting  to  pull  them  apart  (but  you  must  do  this 
with  great  care)  and  see  how  beautifully  wrapped  are 
the  baby  leaves  and  flowers. 

I  chose  the  branch  of  the  horse-chestnut  for  special 
examination,  because  its  large  buds  show  their  contents 
plainly. 

When  a  bud  grows  on  the  tip  of  a  stem,  its  work  is  to 
carry  on  that  stem  ;  but  when  it  grows  just  above  a 
leaf  scar,  you  can  be  sure  that  it  is  a  young  branch. 
Such  a  branch  may  bear  either  leaves  or  flowers,  or 
both. 

But  buds  do  not  all  grow  up  at  the  same  time,  or 
necessarily  at  all. 

The  strongest  ones  are  the  first  to  open.  The  others 
may  keep  quiet  for  some  time,  not  unfolding,  perhaps, 
unless  some  of  the  earlier  ones  are  killed.  In  this  case, 
the  waiting  buds  try  to  fill  the  gap,  and  carry  on  the 
good  work  of  clothing  the  tree  with  leaves  and  flowers. 

Sometimes  they  wait  over  till  another  year,  and  occa- 
sionally a  bud  never  opens  at  all. 

You  all  enjoyed  planting  seeds,  and  watching  them 
grow  under  your  very  eyes. 

Now  I  am  going  to  propose  to  you  a  scheme  which 
has  given  me  quite  as  much  pleasure  as  my  pot  gar- 
dens. 


129 

When  the  buds  on  the  winter  branches  have  swelled 
the  least  little  bit,  after  a  few  warm  days  in  February 
perhaps,  go  to  the  woods  and  cut  several  branches 
in  places  where  no  one  will  miss  them,  and  take  them 
home  and  put  them  in  warm  water,  in  a  warm,  bright 
corner,  and  see  what  happens. 

It  will  be  a  real  joy  to  you,  watching  these  little  buds 
get  bigger  and  bigger,  till  the  outer  wrappings  are 
forced  apart,  and  either  thrown  well  aside,  or  pushed 
off  altogether ;  and  you  will  be  filled  with  delight  when 
the  delicate  baby  leaves  begin  to  stretch  themselves,  or, 
better  still,  when  the  pure,  beautiful  flowers  burst  from 
the  brown,  dead-looking  twigs. 

Get  branches  of  cherry,  apple,  peach,  and  pear ;  and 
bring  in  the  pussy  willow,  the  maple,  the  ForsytJiia,  the 
spicebush,  and,  if  you  can  find  it,  the  mountain  laurel ; 
and  if  you  do  not  pass  many  moments  of  almost  breath- 
less pleasure  watching  the  wonders  these  budding- 
branches  are  so  eager  to  reveal,  you  are  not  the  chil- 
dren I  take  you  to  be. 


>**< 


SOME   ASTONISHING    BUDS 

THERE  are  some  plants  which  do  not  put  any 
winter  wraps  on  their  delicate  buds ;  and,  strangely 
enough,  these  buds  do  not  seem  to  suffer  for  lack  of 
clothing. 

In  a  warm  country  this  would  not  surprise  us.      If  we 
were  going  to  spend  the  winter  in  the  West  Indies,  we 
dana's  plants.  —  q 


130 

should  not  carry  our  furs  with  us,  for  we  should  not 
meet  any  weather  cold  enough  to  make  them  necessary ; 
and  so  perhaps  in  the  West  Indies  the  buds  have  no 
more  need  of  winter  clothing  than  we  ourselves. 

But  if  we  were  to  spend  the  Christmas  holidays  some- 
where in  our  Northern  mountains,  if  we  were  going  for 
skating  and  coasting  to  the  Catskills  or  the  Adiron- 
dacks,  we  should  not  fail  to  take  with  us  our  warmest 
clothes. 

And  yet,  if  we  walked  in  the  Adirondack  woods,  we 
should  meet  over  and  over  again  a  shrub  bearing  naked 
buds,  their  folded,  delicate  leaves  quite  exposed  to  the 
bitter  cold. 

This  shrub  is  the  hobblebush,  the  pretty  flowers  of 
which  you  see  on  p.  246. 

I  do  not  understand  any  better  than  you  why  this 
hobblebush  does  not  tuck  away  its  baby  leaves  beneath 
a  warm  covering.  Neither  do  I  understand  how  these 
naked  leaves  can  live  through  the  long,  cold  winter.  I 
should  like  very  much  to  satisfy  myself  as  to  the  reason 
for  this,  for  they  do  live  and  nourish ;  and  I  wish  that 
such  of  you  children  as  know  the  home  of  the  hobble- 
bush (and  it  is  common  in  many  places)  would  watch 
this  shrub  through  the  winter,  and  see  if  you  can  dis- 
cover how  it  can  afford  to  take  less  care  of  its  buds  than 
other  plants. 

There  is  one  tree  which  seems  to  shield  its  buds  more 
carefully  in  summer  than  in  winter.  This  tree  is  the 
buttonwood.  It  grows  not  only  in  the  country,  but  in 
many  of  our  city  streets  and  squares.  You  know  it  by 
the  way  in  which  its  bark  peels  in  long  strips  from  its 


3i 


trunk  and  branches,  and  by  the  button-like  balls  which 
hang  from  the  leafless  twigs  all  winter. 

If  you  examine  one  of  these  twigs,  now  that  they  are 
bare  of  leaves,  you  see  the  buds  quite  plainly ;  but  if  it 
is  summer  time,  when  the  leaves  are  clinging  to  the 
branch,  you  see  no  buds,  and  suppose  that  they  are  not 
yet  formed. 

But  here  you  are  wrong. 

"  How  can  that  be  ? "  you  ask.  You  looked  care- 
fully, and  nowhere  was  there  any  sign  of  a  bud. 

But  you  did  not  look  everywhere,  after  all. 

If  very  carefully  you  had  pulled  off  one  of  the  leaves, 
you  would  have  found  the  young  bud  tucked  safely 
away  beneath  the  hollow 
end  of  the  leafstalk.  This 
leafstalk  fitted  over  it 
more  neatly  than  a  can- 
dle snuffer  over  a  candle 

(Fig.  130- 

Try  this  for  yourselves 
next  summer.  I  think  you 
will  be  pleased  with  this 
pretty  arrangement. 

We  learned  that  the 
potato,  even  though  it  is  buried  in  the  earth  and  does 
not  look  like  it,  is  really  one  of  the  thickened  stems 
of  the  potato  plant. 

The  "eyes"  of  the  potato  look  as  little  like  buds  as 
the  potato  itself  looks  like  a  stem.  Yet  these  "eyes" 
are  true  buds ;  for,  if  we  leave  our  potatoes  in  the  dark 
cellar   till    spring,    the    "eyes"    will    send    out    slender 


Fig.  131 


132 


shoots  in  the  same  way  that  the  bads  on  the  branches 
of  trees  send  out  young  shoots. 

As  I  told  you  before,  the  usual  place  for  a  bud  is 
just  between  the  stem  and  the  leafstalk,  or  the  scar  left 
by  the  leafstalk ;  but  if  a  stem  is  cut  or  wounded,  often- 
times it  sends  out  buds  in  other  than  the  usual  places. 

This  habit  accounts  for  the  growth  of  young  shoots 
from  stumps  of  trees,  and  from  parts  of  the  plant 
which  ordinarily  do  not  give  birth  to  buds. 

Some  buds  never  open  while  fastened  to  the  stem  of 
the   parent   plant ;    but  after   a  time   they  fall   to   the 
ground,   strike   root,   and   send   up   a 
fresh  young  plant. 

The  tiger  lily,  the  plant  that  grows 
so  often  in  old  gardens,  bears  such 
buds  as  these.  We  call  them  "bulblets" 
when  they  act  in  this  strange  fashion. 
Perhaps  even  more  surprising  than 
this  is  the  fact  that  leaves  sometimes 
produce  buds. 
In  certain  warmer  countries  grows  a  plant  called  the 
Bryophyllum.  If  you  look  carefully  at  the  thick,  fleshy 
leaves  of  this  plant,  along  its  notched  edges  you  will 
see  certain  little  dark  spots ;  and  if  you  cut  off  one  of 
these  leaves  and  pin  it  on  your  window  curtain,  what  do 
you  suppose  will  happen  ? 

Well,  right  under  your  eyes  will  happen  one  of  the 
strangest  things  I  have  ever  seen. 

From  the  row  of  dark  spots  along  the  leaf's  edge, 
springs  a  row  of  tiny,  perfect  plants  (Fig.  132). 

And  when  these  tiny  plants  are  fairly  started,  if  you 


Fig.  132 


133 

lay  the  leaf  on  moist  earth,  they  will  send  their  roots 
into  the  ground,  break  away  from  the  fading  leaf,  and 
form  a  whole  colony  of  new  plants. 

Now,  those  dark  spots  along  the  leaf's  edge  were  tiny 
buds ;  and  the  thick  leaf  was  so  full  of  rich  food,  that 
when  it  was  broken  off  from  the  parent  plant,  and  all 
of  this  food  was  forced  into  the  buds,  these  were  strong 
enough  to  send  out  roots  and  leaves,  and  to  set  up  in 
life  for  themselves. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  for  your  teacher  to  secure  some 
of  these  leaves  of  the  Bryophyllum,  and  to  show  you 
in  the  schoolroom  this  strange  performance. 

All  children  enjoy  wonderful  tricks,  and  I  know  of 
nothing  much  prettier  or  more  astonishing  than  this 
trick  of  the  Bryophyllum. 


Part  V — Leaves 


:•**< 


HOW  TO  LOOK  AT  A  LEAF 

TO-DAY  we  begin  to  learn  what  we  can  about 
the  leaves  of  plants.  I  hope  that  enough  fresh 
green  leaves  have  been  brought  to  school  to  allow 
every  child  here  to  have  one  on  the  desk  before  him, 
so  that  he  may  see,  as  far  as  is  possible,  just  what 
is  being  talked  about. 

This  picture  (Fig.  133)  shows  you  the  leaf  of  the 
quince.  Now,  suppose  you  held  in  your  hand  a  leaf 
fresh  from  the  quince  tree,  and  were 
asked  to  describe  it  to  a  blind  person, 
how  would  you  tell  about  it  ? 

You  would  begin,  I  fancy,  by  saying, 
"This  leaf  is  green,"  for  the  color  of 
an  object  is  one  of  the  things  we  notice 
first. 

Next  perhaps  you  would  describe  its 
shape.  "This  quince  leaf  is  rounded, 
yet  it  is  too  long  to  be  called  a  round 
leaf."  So  you  would  use  the  word 
"oblong." 

Like  most  leaves,  then,  it  is  green ; 
other  leaves,  it  is  oblong. 


Fig.  133 
and  like  some 


*35 


136 


Now  look  at  this  picture  (Fig.  134)  of  the  maple  leaf. 
This,  you  see,  is  not  oblong,  but  three-pointed. 

What  other  differences  do  you  notice  between  these 
two  leaves  ? 

You  do  not  seem  quite  sure  as  to  whether  there  are 

any  other  differences.     But  do  you  not  notice  that  the 

edge  of  the  maple  leaf  is  cut  into  little  teeth,  like  the 

edge  of  a  saw,  while  the  edge  of 

the  quince  leaf  is  smooth  ? 

And  let  me  tell  you  here,  that 
when  I  speak  of  a  leaf,  I  speak 
not  only  of  the  enlarged  flat 
surface  we  call  the  "  leaf  blade," 
but  also  of  the  "leafstalk."  A  leaf 
usually  consists  of  a  leafstalk  and 
a  leaf  blade,  though  some  leaves 
are  set  so  close  to  the  stem  that 
they  have  no  room  for  any  stalks 
of  their  own. 

"Oh!  then,"  you  answer,  "the 
leafstalk  of  the  maple  is  much 
longer  than  that  of  the  quince,  and  there  are  little  bits 
of  leaves  at  the  foot  of  the  quince  leafstalk  which  the 
maple  is  without." 

You  have  done  very  well,  and  have  noticed  just 
those  things  which  you  should. 

The  shape  of  the  leaf  blade,  whether  the  edge  of  this 
is  toothed,  the  length  of  the  leafstalk,  and  whether  this 
has  any  little  leaves  at  its  foot  where  it  joins  the  stem, 
are  things  always  worth  noticing. 

Now  take  your  leaves  and  hold  them  up  against  the 


Fig.  134 


137 

light,  or  else  look  at  the  picture  of  the  quince  leaf,  and 
study  carefully  the  make-up  of  the  blade. 

You  see  that  this  is  divided  lengthwise  by  a  heavy 
rib  which  juts  out  on  the  lower  side.  From  this 
"midrib,"  as  it  is  called,  run  a  great  many  smaller  lines. 
These  are  called  "veins."  And  from  these  branch  off 
still  smaller  veins  that  bear  the  name  of  "  veinlets."  And 
somewhat  as  the  paper  is  stretched  over  the  sticks  of  a 
kite,  so  from  the  leaf's  midrib  to  its  edge,  and  from  vein 
to  vein,  is  drawn  the  delicate  green  material  which 
makes  up  the  greater  part  of  the  leaf. 

What  I  wish  you  to  learn  this  morning  is,  how  to  look 
at  a  leaf. 

Before  using  our  brains  rightly,  we  must  know  how 
to  use  our  eyes.  If  we  see  a  thing  as  it  really  is,  the 
chances  are  that  our  thoughts  about  it  will  be  fairly 
correct. 

But  it  is  surprising  how  often  our  eyes  see  wrong. 

If  you  doubt  this,  ask  four  or  five  of  your  playmates 
to  describe  the  same  thing,  —  some  street  accident,  or  a 
quarrel  in  the  playground,  which  all  have  seen,  or 
something  of  the  sort,  —  and  then  I  think  you  will 
understand  what  I  mean  by  saying  that  few  people  see 
correctly. 


138 


THE    MOST    WONDERFUL    THING    IN    THE 
"WORLD 

IT  would  be  quite  a  simple  matter  to  interest  you  chil- 
dren in  plants  and  their  lives,  if  always  it  were 
possible  to  talk  only  about  the  things  which  you  can 
see  with  your  own  unaided  eyes. 

I  think  a  bright  child  sees  better  than  many  a  grown 
person,  and  I  think  that  it  is  easier  to  interest  him  in 
what  he  sees. 

And  then  plants  in  themselves  are  so  interesting 
and  surprising,  that  one  must  be  stupid  indeed  if  he 
or  she  finds  it  impossible  to  take  pleasure  in  watching 
their  ways. 

But  about  these  plants  there  are  many  things  which 
you  cannot  see  without  the  help  of  a  microscope,  and 
these  things  it  is  difficult  to  describe  in  simple  words. 
Yet  it  is  necessary  to  learn  about  them  if  you  wish 
really  to  feel  at  home  in  this  beautiful  world  of  plants. 

After  all,  whatever  is  worth  having  is  worth  taking 
some  trouble  for;  and  nothing  worth  having  can  be  had 
without  trouble.  So  I  hope  when  you  children  come 
to  parts  of  this  book  that  seem  at  first  a  little  dull,  you 
will  say  to  yourselves,  "  Well,  if  we  wish  really  to  know 
plants,  to  be  able  to  tell  their  names,  to  understand 
their  habits,  we  must  try  to  be  a  little  patient  when  we 
come  to  the  things  that  are  difficult." 

For  even  in  your  games  you  boys  have  to  use  some 
patience ;  and  you  are  quite  willing  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  hurt  for  the  sake  of  a  little  fun. 


139 

And  you  girls  will  take  no  end  of  trouble  if  you 
happen  to  be  sewing  for  your  dolls,  or  playing  at 
cooking  over  the  kitchen  stove,  or  doing  something  to 
which  you  give  the  name  "  play  "  instead  of  "  work." 

I  only  ask  for  just  as  much  patience  in  your  study 
of  plants  ;  and  I  think  I  can  safely  promise  you  that 
plants  will  prove  delightful  playthings  long  after  you 
have  put  aside  the  games  which  please  you  now. 

So  we  must  begin  to  talk  about  some  of  the  things 
which  you  are  not  likely  to  see  now  with  your  own 
eyes,  but  which,  when  possible,  I  will  show  you  by 
means  of  pictures,  and  which,  when  you  are  older,  some 
of  you  may  see  with  the  help  of  a  microscope. 

Every  living  thing  is  made  up  of  one  or  more  little 
objects  called  "  cells." 

Usually  a  cell  may  be  likened  to  a  tiny  bag  which 
holds  a  bit  of  that  material  which  is  the  most  wonderful 
thing  in  the  whole  world,  for  this  is  the  material  which 
has  life. 

Occasionally  a  cell  is  nothing  but  a  naked  bit  of  this 
wonderful  substance,  for  it  is  not  always  held  in  a 
tiny  bag. 

This  picture  (Fig.  135)  shows  you  a  naked  plant  cell, 
much    magnified,  that    swims    about    in 
the   water    by  means   of    the    two    long 
hairs  which  grow  from  one  end  of  the 
speck  of  life-giving  material. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  136)  shows 
you  a  seed  cut  across,  and  so  magnified 
that  you  can  see  plainly  its  many  cells. 

In  the  middle  portion  of  the  seed  the  cells  are  six- 


140 


sided,  and  laid  against  one  another  in  an  orderly  and 
beautiful  fashion,  while  the  outer  ones  are  mostly  round. 
All  animals,  we  ourselves,  all  plants,  began  life  as  a 
single  cell. 

Sometimes  a  cell  will  spend  its  life  alone.  When  the 
time  comes  for  it  to  add  to  the  life  of  the  world,  it 
divides  into  two  or  more  "daughter  cells,"  as  they  are 
called.  These  break  away  from  one 
another,  and  in  like  manner  divide 
again. 

But  usually  the  single  cell  which 
marks  the  beginning  of  a  new  life 
adds  to  itself  other  cells;  that  is,  the 
different  cells  do  not  break  away 
from  one  another,  but  all  cling  to- 
gether, and  so  build  up  the  perfect 
plant  or  animal. 

By  just  such  additions  the  great- 
est tree  in  the  forest  grew  from  a 
single  tiny  cell. 
By  just  such  additions  you  children  have  grown  to 
be  what  you  are,  and  in  the  same  way  you  will  con- 
tinue to  grow. 

Every  living  thing  must  eat  and  breathe,  and  so  all 
living  cells  must  have  food  and  air.  These  they  take 
in  through  their  delicate  cell  walls.  The  power  to  do 
this  comes  from  the  bit  of  living  substance  which  lies 
within  these  walls. 

This  strange,  wonderful  material  within  the  little  cell 
is  what  is  alive  in  every  man  and  woman,  in  every  boy 
and  girl,  in  every  living  thing,  whether  plant  or  animal. 


Fig.  136 


141 

We  know  this  much  about  it.  and  not  the  wisest  man 
that  ever  lived  knows  much  more. 

For  though  the  wise  men  know  just  what  things  go 
to  make  up  this  material,  and  though  they  themselves 
can  put  together  these  same  things,  they  can  no  more 
make  life,  or  understand  the  making  of  it,  than  can 
you  or  I. 

But  when  we  get  a  good  hold  of  the  idea  that  this 
material  is  contained  in  all  living  things,  then  we  begin 
to  feel  this  ;  we  begin  to  feel  that  men  and  women, 
boys  and  girls,  big  animals  and  little  insects,  trees  and 
flowers,  wayside  weeds  and  grasses,  the  ferns  and  rushes 
of  the  forest,  the  gray  lichens  of  the  cliffs  and  fences, 
the  seaweeds  that  sway  in  the  green  rock  pools,  and 
living  things  so  tiny  that  our  eyes  must  fail  to  see 
them,  —  that  all  these  are  bound  into  one  by  the  tie  of 
that  strange  and  wonderful  thing  called  life;  that  they 
are  all  different  expressions  of  one  mysterious,  magnifi- 
cent idea. 

While  writing  that  last  sentence,  I  almost  forgot  that 
I  was  writing  for  boys  and  girls,  or  indeed  for  any  one 
but  myself;  and  I  am  afraid  that  perhaps  you  have 
very  little  idea  of  what  I  am  talking  about. 

But  I  will  not  cross  it  out.    Why  not,  do  you  suppose  ? 

Because  I  feel  almost  sure  that  here  and  there  among 
you  is  a  girl  or  boy  who  will  get  just  a  little  glimmering 
idea  of  what  I  mean ;  and  perhaps  as  the  years  go  by, 
that  glimmer  will  change  into  a  light  so  bright  and  clear 
as  to  become  a  help  in  dark  places. 

But  the  thought  that  I  hope  each  one  of  you  will  carry 
home    is   this,  —  that   because   this    strange    something 


142 

found  in  your  body  is  also  found  in  every  other  living 
thing,  you  may  learn  to  feel  that  you  are  in  a  way 
a  sister  or  brother,  not  only  to  all  other  boys  and  girls, 
but  to  all  the  animals  and  to  every  plant  about  you. 


3XXC 


HOW   A   PLANT    IS    BUILT 

NOW  we  know  that  the  plant,  like  yourself,  began 
life  as  a  single  cell ;  and  we  know  that  the  perfect 
plant  was  built  up  by  the  power  which  this  cell  had  of 
giving  birth  to  other  cells  with  like  power. 

Suppose  that  a  brick  were  laid  upon  the  earth  as  the 
foundation  of  a  wall ;  and  suppose  that  this  brick  were 
able  to  change  into  two  bricks.  Suppose  that  the  new 
brick  were  able  to  form  another  brick  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  that  this  power  should  pass  from  brick  to 
brick ;  and  suppose  that  all  these  bricks  were  able  to 
arrange  themselves  one  upon  another  in  an  orderly 
fashion,  so  that  they  could  not  easily  be  moved  from 
their  places. 

Now,  if  you  can  see  this  brick  wall  growing  up,  you 
can  see  something  of  how  the  cells  of  a  plant  grow 
up  and  arrange  themselves. 

But  though  it  is  fairly  easy  to  see  how  the  plant 
cells  form  one  from  another,  that  does  not  explain  how 
they  come  to  make  a  plant,  with  its  many  different 
parts,  with  its  root  and  stem,  its  branches,  leaves,  and 
flowers. 

One  thing  can   divide  and  make  two  things  of   the 


H3 

same  sort;  but  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  it  can  make 
things  that  are  quite  different  from  itself. 

Now,  if  this  difficulty  as  to  the  building-up  of  plants 
and  animals  has  come  into  your  minds,  you  are  only 
puzzled  by  what  has  puzzled  hundreds  of  people  before 
you;  and  all  these  hundreds  of  people  have  found  the 
puzzle  quite  as  impossible  to  solve  as  the  king's  horses 
and  the  king's  men  found  it  impossible  to  put  Humpty 
Dumpty  together  again. 

A  good  many  questions  that  we  cannot  answer  come 
into  our  minds;  but  if  we  look  honestly  for  the  answers 
and  do  not  find  them,  then  we  can  be  pretty  sure  that 
for  the  present  it  is  safe  to  leave  them  unanswered. 

As  cell  is  added  to  cell  in  the  building-up  of  plant  life, 
some  wonderful  power  forces  each  new  cell  to  do  the 
special  work  which  is  most  needed  by  the  growing  plant. 

Sometimes  this  new  cell  is  needed  to  help  do  the 
work  of  a  root,  and  so  it  begins  to  do  this  work,  and  be- 
comes part  of  the  root ;  or  else  it  is  needed  to  do  stem 
work,  and  goes  to  make  up  the  stem,  or  leaf  work,  and 
is  turned  over  into  the  leaf. 

A  healthy  cell  is  born  with  the  power  to  do  whatever 
is  most  needed. 

HOW  A  PLANT'S  FOOD  IS  COOKED 

SOME  time  ago  we  learned  that  the  little  root  hairs, 
by  means  of  their  acid,  are  able  to  make  a  sort 
of  broth  from  the  earthy  materials  which  they  could 
not  swallow  in  a  solid  state. 


144 

But  before  this  broth  is  really  quite  fit  for  plant 
food,  it  needs  even  more  preparation. 

Why  do  we  eat  and  drink,   do  you  suppose  ? 

"  Because  we  are  hungry."  That  is  the  direct  rea- 
son, of  course.  But  we  are  made  hungry  so  that  we 
shall  be  forced  to  eat ;  for  when  we  eat,  we  take  into 
our  bodies  the  material  that  is  needed  to  build  them 
up,  — to  feed  the  cells  which  make  the  flesh  and  bone 
and  muscle. 

And  this  is  just  why  the  plant  eats  and  drinks.  It 
needs  constantly  fresh  nourishment  for  its  little  cells, 
so  that  these  can  live,  and  grow  strong  enough  to 
make  the  new  cells  which  go  to  form,  not  bone  and 
flesh  and  muscle,  as  with  you  children,  but  fresh  roots 
and  stem  and  leaves  and  flowers  and  fruits. 

If  these  little  cells  were  not  fed,  they  would  die,  and 
the  plant  would  cease  to  live  also. 

And  now  what  do  you  think  happens  to  the  broth 
that  has  been  taken  in  from  the  earth  by  the  root 
hairs  ? 

As  we  have  said,  this  broth  needs  a  little  more  prep- 
aration before  it  is  quite  fit  for  plant  food.  What  it 
really  wants  is  some   cooking. 

Perhaps  you  can  guess  that  the  great  fire  before 
which  all  plant  food  is  cooked  is  the  sun. 

But  how  are  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun  to  pierce  the 
earth,  and  reach  the  broth  which  is  buried  in  the  plant's 
root  ? 

Of  course,  if  it  remains  in  the  root,  the  earth  broth 
will  not  get  the  needed  cooking.  It  must  be  carried 
to  some  more  get-at-able  position. 


145 

Now,  what  part  of  a  plant  is  usually  best  fitted  to 
receive  the  sun's  rays  ? 

Its  leaves,  to  be  sure.  The  thin,  flat  leaf  blades  are 
spread  out  on  all  sides,  so  that  they  fairly  bathe  them- 
selves in  sunshine. 

So  if  the  broth  is  to  be  cooked  in  the  sun,  up  to 
the  leaves  it  must  be  carried. 

And  how  is  this  managed  ?  Water  does  not  run 
uphill,  as  you  know.  Yet  this  watery  broth  must 
mount  the  stem  before  it  can  enter  the  leaves. 

Water  does  not  run  uphill  ordinarily,  it  is  true ;  yet, 
if  you  dip  a  towel  in  a  basin  of  water,  the  water  rises 
along  the  threads,  and  the  towel  is  wet  far  above  the 
level  of  the  basin. 

And  if  you  dip  the  lower  end  of  a  lump  of  sugar 
in  a  cup  of  coffee,  the  coffee  rises  in  the  lump,  and 
stains  it  brown. 

And  the  oil  in  the  lamp  mounts  high  into  the  wick. 

Perhaps  when  you  are  older  you  will  be  able  some- 
what to  understand  the  reason  of  this  rise  of  liquid  in 
the  towel,  in  the  lump  of  sugar,  in  the  lamp  wick.  The 
same  reason  accounts  partly  for  the  rise  of  the  broth 
in  the  stem.  But  it  is  thought  that  the  force  which 
sends  the  oil  up  the  wick  would  not  send  the  water 
far  up  the  stem.  And  you  know  that  some  stems  are 
very  tall  indeed.  The  distance,  for  example,  to  be 
traveled  by  water  or  broth  which  is  sucked  in  by  the 
roots  of  an  oak  tree,  and  which  must  reach  the  top- 
most leaves  of  the  oak,  is  very  great. 

Yet  the  earth   broth  seems  to   have  no  difficulty  in 
making  this  long,  steep  climb. 
dana's  plants.  —  10 


146 


Now,  even  wise  men  have  to  do  some  guessing 
about  this  matter,  and  I  fear  you  will  find  it  a  little 
hard  to  understand. 

But  it  is  believed  that  the  roots  drink  in  the  earth 
broth  so  eagerly  and  so  quickly,  that  before  they  know 
it  they  are  full  to  overflowing.  It  is  easier,  however, 
to  enter  a  root  than  it  is  to  leave  it  by  the  same  door ; 
and  the  result  is,  that  the  broth  is  forced  upward  into 
the  stem  by  the  pressure  of  more  water  or  broth  behind. 
Of  course,  if  the  stem  and  branches  and  leaves 
above  are  already  full  of  liquid,  unless  they  have  some 
way  of  disposing  of  the  supply  on  hand,  they  cannot 
take  in  any  more ;  and  the  roots  below  would  then  be 
forced  to  stop  drinking,  for  when  a  thing  is  already 
quite  full  to  overflowing,  it  cannot  be  made  to  hold 
more. 

But  leaves  have  a  habit  of  getting  rid  of  what  they  do 
not  need.  When  the  watery  broth  is  cooked  in  the  sun, 
the  heat  of  the  sun's  rays  causes  the  water 
to  pass  off  through  the  little  leaf  mouths. 
Thus  the  broth  is  made  fit  for  plant  food, 
and  at  the  same  time  room  is  provided  for 
fresh  supplies  from  the  root. 

If  you  should  examine  the  lower  side  of 
a   leaf  through  a  microscope,  you   would 
find    hundreds    and     thousands     of     tiny 
mouths,  looking  like  the   little  mouths  in  this   picture 

(Fig-  I37> 

Some  of  the  water  from  the  earth  broth  is  constantly 
passing  through  these  mouths  out  of  the  plant,  into 
the  air. 


Fig.  j37 


*47 
A    STEEP    CLIMB 

IT  is  all  very  well,  you  may  think,  to  say  that  the 
pressure  from  the  root  sends  the  water  up  through 
the  stem ;  but  when  we  cut  across  such  a  stem  as  a  tree 
trunk,  one  finds  it  full  of  wood,  with  a  little  tightly 
packed  soft  stuff  in  the  center,  and  not  hollow  like  a 
water  pipe,  as  one  would  suppose  from  all  that  has  been 
said  about  the  way  the  water  rises  in  the  stem. 

No,  a  stem  is  not  a  hollow  pipe,  or  even  a  bunch  of 
hollow  pipes,  it  is  true ;  and  it  does  seem  something  of 
a  question,  how  the  water  can  force  its  way  through  all 
this  wood;  and  even  if  one  hears  how  it  is  done,  it  is 
not  an  easy  thing  to  make  clear  either  to  grown  people 
or  to  children.  But  I  will  see  what  I  can  do;  and  I  know 
that  you  really  love  these  plants  and  trees,  and  will  try 
to  be  a  little  patient  with  them  and  with  me. 

The  water,  or  liquid,  when  it  mounts  a  stem  or  tree 
trunk,  takes  a  path  that  leads  through  the  new-made 
cells.  Each  young  cell  wall  is  made  of  such  delicate 
material  that  it  allows  the  water,  or  broth,  to  filter 
through  it,  just  as  it  would  pass  through  a  piece  of  thin 
cloth.  And  so  it  makes  its  way  from  cell  to  cell,  along 
the  stem,  more  slowly  than  if  it  were  passing  through  a 
hollow  tube,  but  almost  as  surely.  It  is  true,  the  earth 
broth  does  not  reach  the  leaves  above  without  having 
given  up  something  to  the  little  cells  along  the  road. 
These  seem  to  lay  hold  of  what  they  specially  need 
for  their  support,  while  the  rest  is  allowed  to  pass  on. 

I  want  your  teacher  to  prove  to  you  by  a  little  experi- 
ment that  water  makes  its  way  up  a  stem. 


148 

If  she  will  place  in  colored  water  the  stem  of  a  large 
white  tulip,  cutting  off  its  lower  end  under  the  liquid, 
those  parts  whose  little  cells  are  in  closest  connection 
with  the  stem  will  soon  begin  to  change  color,  taking 
the  red  or  blue  of  the  water ;  for  a  freshly  cut  stem  has 
the  same  power  as  the  root  to  suck  in  water  eagerly  and 
quickly. 

HOW   A   PLANT   PERSPIRES 

WE  cannot  see  the  water  as  it  passes  from  the  tiny 
leaf  mouths  into  the  air.  Neither  can  we  see 
the  water  that  is  being  constantly  carried  from  the  sur- 
face of  our  bodies  into  the  air.  But  if  we  breathe  against 
a  window  pane,  the  scattered  water  in  our  breath  is 
collected  by  the  cold  of  the  glass  in  a  little  cloud;  and 
if  we  place  the  warm  palms  of  our  hands  against  this 
window  pane,  in  the  same  way  the  cold  collects  the 
water  that  is  passing  from  the  little  mouths  in  our  skin, 
and  shows  it  to  us  as  a  cloud  on  the  glass. 

Heat  scatters  water  so  that  we  cannot  see  it,  any 
more  than  we  can  see  the  lump  of  sugar  when  its  little 
grains  are  scattered  in  hot  water;  but  cold  gathers 
together  the  water  drops  so  that  we  are  able  to  see  them. 

This  is  why  you  can  "  see  your  breath,"  as  you  say, 
on  a  cold  day.  The  cold  outside  air  gathers  together 
the  water  which  was  scattered  by  the  heat  of  your  body. 

If  you  place  against  the  window  pane  the  under  side 
of  the  leaves  of  a  growing  plant,  the  water  passing 
from  the  tiny  leaf  mouths  collects  on  the  glass  in  just 


149 

such  a  damp  cloud  as  is  made  by  the  moist  palms  of 
your  warm  hands. 

When  water  passes  from  your  hands,  you  say  that 
you  are  perspiring ;  and  when  water  passes  away  from 
the  plant,  we  can  say  that  the  plant  perspires.  Some 
plants  perspire  more  freely  than  others.  A  sunflower 
plant  has  been  known  to  give  off  more  than  three 
tumblers  of  water  a  day  by  this  act  of  perspiration. 

There  is  a  tree,  called  the  Eucalyptus,  whose  leaves 
perspire  so  freely  that  it  is  planted  in  swampy  places  in 
order  to  drain  away  the  water. 

Of  course,  the  more  quickly  the  leaves  throw  off 
water,  the  faster  the  fresh  supply  pushes  up  the  stem. 

If  the  leaves  do  their  work  more  quickly  than  the 
roots  make  good  the  loss,  then  the  plant  wilts. 

When  a  leaf  is  broken  from  a  plant,  it  soon  fades. 
Its  water  supply  being  cut  off,  it  has  no  way  of  making 
good  the  loss  through  the  leaf  mouths. 

Just  as  the  air  in  a  balloon  keeps  its  walls  firm,  so  the 
water  in  the  leaf  cells  keeps  the  cell  walls  firm. 

As  a  balloon  collapses  if  you  prick  it  with  a  pin,  and 
let  out  the  air,  so  the  cell  walls  collapse  when  the  cells 
lose  their  water ;  and  when  the  cell  walls  of  a  leaf  col- 
lapse, the  leaf  itself  collapses. 


>X*c 


HOW   A    PLANT    STORES    ITS    FOOD 

WE    see    that   the   water  is  drawn  away  from  the 
earth  broth  into  the  air  by  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
just  as  water  is  drawn  from  the  broth  we  place  on  the 


ISO 

Hi 

stove  by  the  heat  of  the  fire  ;  and  that  when  this  has 
happened,  the  plant's  food  is  cooked,  arid  is  in  condition 
to  be  eaten. 

But  this  broth  does  not  lose  all  its  water.  There  is 
still  enough  left  to  carry  it  back  through  the  leaf  into 
the  branches  and  stem,  and  even  down  into  .the  root 
once  more.  : 

In  fact,  the  prepared  food  is  now  sent  to  just  those 
parts  of  the  plant  which  most  need  it. 

Perhaps  it  is  laid  up  beneath  the  bark,  to  help  make 
new  buds  which  will  burst  into  leaf  and  flower  another 
year. 

Or  perhaps  it  goes  down  to  help  the  roots  put  out 
new  branches  and  fresh  root  hairs. 

Or  possibly  it  is  stowed  away  in  such  an  underground 
stem  as  that  of  the  lily,  or  the  crocus  bulb,  and  is 
saved  for  next  year's  food.  Once  in  a  while  some  of 
this  prepared  food  is  stored  in  the  leaf  itself. 

When  a  leaf  is  thick  and  juicy  ("fleshy,"  the  books 
call  it),  we  can  guess  that  it  is  full  of  plant  food. 

Do  you  recall  the  Bryopliyllum,  —  the  plant  we  talke^ 
about  a  few  days  ago  ?  Its  wonderful  leaves,  you  re- 
member, gave  birth  to  a  whole  colony  of  new  plants. 

You  may  be  sure  that  these  leaves  had  refused  to 
give  up  all  the  food  sent  to  them  for  cooking  in  the 
sun.  You  can  guess  this  from  their  thick,  fleshy  look, 
and  you  can  be  sure  of  this  when  you  see  the  baby 
plants  spring  from  their  edges  ;  for  without  plenty  of 
nourishment  stored  away,  these  leaves  could  never  man- 
age to  support  such  a  quantity  of  young  ones. 


i5i 


LEAF  GREEN  AND  SUNBEAM 

BUT  the  earth  broth  which  the  roots  supply  is  not 
the  only  article  of  importance  in  the  plant's  bill 
of  fare. 

The  air  about  us  holds  one  thing  that  every  plant 
needs  as  food. 

This  air  is  a  mixture  of  several  things.  Just  as  the 
tea  we  drink  is  a  mixture  of  tea  and  water,  and  milk 
and  sugar,  so  the  air  is  a  mixture  of  oxygen  and  nitro- 
gen, and  water  and  carbonic-acid  gas. 

Oxygen,  nitrogen,  and  carbonic-acid  gas,  —  each  one 
of  these  three  things  that  help  to  make  the  air  is  what  we 
call  a  gas,  and  one  of  these  gases  is  made  of  two  things. 
Carbonic-acid  gas  is  made  of  oxygen  and  carbon. 

Now,  carbon  is  the  food  which  is  needed  by  every 
plant.  But  the  carbon  in  the  air  is  held  tightly  in  the 
grasp  of  the  oxygen,  with  which  it  makes  the  gas  called 
carbonic-acid  gas. 

To  get  possession  of  this  carbon,  the  plant  must 
contrive  to  break  up  the  gas,  and  then  to  seize  and 
keep  by  force  the  carbon. 

This  seems  like  a  rather  difficult  performance,  does 
it  not  ?  For  when  a  gas  is  made  of  two  different 
things,  you  can  be  pretty  sure  that  these  keep  a  firm 
hold  on  each  other,  and  that  it  is  not  altogether  easy 
to  tear  them  apart. 

Now,  how  does  the  plant  meet  this  difficulty  ? 

You  cannot  guess  by  yourselves  how  this  is  done,  so 
I  must  tell  you  the  whole  story. 


152 

Certain  cells  in  the  plant  are  trained  from  birth  for 
this  special  work,  —  the  work  of  getting  possession  of 
the  carbon  needed  for  plant  food.  These  little  cells 
take  in  the  carbonic-acid  gas  from  the  air ;  then  they 
break  it  up,  tearing  the  carbon  from  the  close  embrace 
of  the  oxygen,  pushing  the  oxygen  back  into  the  air  it 
came  from,  and  turning  the  carbon  over  to  the  plant 
to  be  stored  away  till  needed  as  food. 

Only  certain  cells  can  do  this  special  piece  of  work. 
Only  the  cells  which  hold  the  green  substance  that 
colors  the  leaf  can  tear  apart  carbonic-acid  gas.  Every 
little  cell  which  holds  a  bit  of  this  leaf  green  devotes 
itself  to  separating  the  carbon  from  the  oxygen. 

Why  this  special  power  lies  in  a  tiny  speck  of  leaf 
green  we  do  not  know.  We  only  know  that  a  cell 
without  such  an  occupant  is  quite  unable  to  break  up 
carbonic-acid  gas. 

But  even  the  bit  of  leaf  green  in  a  tiny  cell  needs 
some  help  in  its  task.  What  aid  does  it  call  in,  do  you 
suppose,  when  it  works  to  wrench  apart  the  gas  ? 

In  this  work  the  partner  of  the  bit  of  leaf  green  is 
nothing  more  or  less  than  a  sunbeam.  Without  the 
aid  of  a  sunbeam,  the  imprisoned  leaf  green  is  as 
helpless  to  steal  the  carbon  as  you  or  I  would  be. 

It  sounds  a  good  deal  like  a  fairy  story,  does  it  not,  — 
this  story  of  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam? 

Charcoal  is  made  of  carbon.  About  one  half  of 
every  plant  is  carbon. 

The  coal  we  burn  in  our  fireplaces  is  the  carbon  left 
upon  the  earth  by  plants  that  lived  and  died  thousands 
of  years  ago.      It  is  the  carbon  that    Leaf  Green  and 


153 

Sunbeam  together  stole  from  the  air,  and  turned  over 
into  the  plant. 

If  one  looks  at  a  piece  of  coal  with  the  eyes  which 
one  keeps  for  the  little  picture  gallery  all  children  carry 
in  their  heads,  one  sees  more  than  just  a  shining,  black 
lump.  One  sees  a  plant  that  grew  upon  the  earth 
thousands  of  years  ago,  with  its  bright  green  leaves 
dancing  in  the  sunlight ;  for  without  those  green  leaves 
and  that  sunlight,  there  could  be  no  coal  for  burning 
to-day.  And  when  we  light  our  coal  fire,  what  we 
really  do  is  to  set  free  the  sunbeams  that  worked,  their 
way  so  long  ago  into  the  plant  cells. 

It  is  more  like  a  fairy  story  than  ever.  Sunbeam  is 
the  noble  knight  who  fought  his  way  into  the  cell  where 
Leaf  Green  lay  imprisoned,  doomed  to  perform  a  task 
which  was  beyond  her  power.  But  with  the  aid  of 
the  noble  Sunbeam,  she  did  this  piece  of  work,  and 
then  both  fell  asleep,  and  slept  for  a  thousand  years. 
Awakening  at  last,  together  they  made  their  joyful 
escape  in  the  flame  that  leaps  from  out  the  black 
coal. 

In  truth,  a  sunbeam  and  a  flame  are  not  so  unlike 
as  to  make  this  story  as  improbable  as  many  others 
that  we  read. 

And  because  I  have  told  it  to  you  in  the  shape  of 
a  fairy  story,  you  must  not  think  it  is  not  true.  It 
is  indeed  true.  Everywhere  in  the  sunshiny  woods 
and  fields  of  summer,  the  story  of  Leaf  Green  and 
Sunbeam  is  being  lived.  But  when  the  day  is  cloudy 
or  the  sun  sets,  then  there  is  no  Sunbeam  to  help  the 
Princess,  and  then  no  carbon  is  stolen  from  the  air. 


154 


PLANT    OR   ANIMAL? 

DID  you  ever  stop  to  ask  yourself,  "What  is  the 
difference  between  a  plant  and  an  animal  ?  " 
because  this  is  the  place  where  that  question  should 
be  answered. 

"  Why,  an  animal  is  altogether  different  from  a 
plant,"  you  answer,  perhaps  a  little  scornfully.  "  I 
have  no  trouble  in  telling  which  is  which." 

It  is  very  natural  that  you  should  feel  this  way. 
A  cow  or  a  horse,  for  example,  is  not  at  all  like  a 
tree ;  and  when  you  think  of  animals,  you  think  of 
the  ones  you  know  best,  and  likewise  of  plants. 

But  wise  men  have  discovered  plants  that  look  and 
act  so  much  like  animals,  and  animals  that  look  and 
act  so  much  like  plants,  that  at  one  time  they  say, 
"  Now,  these  are  animals,  surely,"  and  a  little  later 
exclaim,  "No,  after  all,  these  are  plants;"  and  they 
take  a  long  time  to  make  up  their  minds  as  to  whether 
certain  objects  are  plants  or  animals. 

And  already  even  you  children  have  discovered  that 
the  plants  you  know  best  belong  to  families,  and  have 
children,  and  care  for  them  in  a  very  motherly  fashion  ; 
that  they  drink  earth  food  with  their  roots,  and  eat 
carbon  food  with  their  leaves  ;  and  soon  you  will  find 
that  they  do  many  other  things  which  once  upon  a 
time  you  would  have  thought  it  a  great  joke  to  be 
told  a  plant  could  do. 

You  remember  my  telling  you  of  one  little  plant 
cell   that    could    swim ;    and    there    are    some    animals, 


155 

you  know,  that  are  rooted  to  one  spot  as  we  usually 
think  only  a  plant  is  rooted. 

What,  then,  is  the  difference  between  a  plant  and 
an  animal  ? 

Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam  between  them  put  life 
into  what  had  no  life  before ;  and  the  living  plant 
matter,  which  they  help  to  make,  is  that  which  animals 
cannot  make  themselves,  yet  which  they  cannot  live 
without,  for  this  living  matter  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  them  as  food. 

And  the  one  real  difference  between  a  plant  and  an 
animal  is  this,  —  a  plant  can  make  out  of  certain  dead 
substances  the  living  matter  that  all  animals  must  have 
for  food  ;   an  animal  cannot  do  this. 


56 


HOW  WE  ARE  HELPED  BY  LEAF  GREEN 
AND  SUNBEAM 

THE  cell  in  which  Leaf  Green  lives  has  no  little 
mouths  such  as  we  saw  in  the  picture  some  time 
ago. 

Its  walls  are  so  delicate  that  the  carbonic-acid  gas 
passes  through  them  quite  easily,  —  as  easily  as  the 
gas  escaping  from  an  unlighted  jet  in  the  schoolroom 
could  pass  to  your  nose  even  if  you  wore  a  veil,  or  as 
easily  as  water  would  pass  through  a  piece  of  muslin. 

But  between  Leaf  Green's  cell  and  the  outer  air  are 
other  cells,  —  those  which  make  up  the  outer  covering 
or  skin  of  the  leaf.  These  are  arranged  so  as  to  form 
the  openings  or  mouths  about  which  we  have  read.  By 
means  of  these  mouths  the  gas  makes  its  way  through 
the  leaf's  thick  skin. 

The  plant  needs  as  food  the  carbon  in  this  gas, 
and  so  keeps  fast  hold  of  it ;  but  the  oxygen  is  not 
needed  for  this  purpose,  and  so  it  is  pushed  back  into 
the  air. 

Now,  we  learned  in  the  last  chapter  of  one  very  great 
service  rendered  to  animals  by  plants.  We  learned  that 
plants  took  carbon  from  the  air,  and  turned  this  into 
food  for  animals. 

But  there  is  still  another  way  in  which  plants  serve 
animals.  And  once  more  it  is  the  work  of  Leaf  Green 
and  Sunbeam  that  is  of  such  importance  to  us ;  for 
when  they  take  hold  of  the  carbon,  making  it  into 
living  food  for  man  and  beast,  they  take  from  the  air 


i57 

the  gas  that  is  poisonous,  and  send  back  into  the  air 
the  gas  which  gives  life  and  health. 

This  poisonous  gas  which  they  lay  hold  of,  you  re- 
member, is  carbonic-acid  gas  ;  and  carbonic-acid  gas  is 
what  we  animals  send  out  of  our  bodies  with  every 
breath,  for  it  is  the  part  of  the  air  which  poisons  us. 
When  the  schoolroom  is  so  close  that  our  heads  ache, 
it  is  because  so  many  children  have  been  breathing  out 
this  gas,  and  we  are  forced  to  take  it  back  into  our 
bodies  again. 

But  when  this  gas  is  stolen  by  the  plant,  and  robbed 
of  its  carbon,  it  is  no  longer  carbonic-acid  gas.  Noth- 
ing of  it  is  left  but  the  oxygen  which  is  pushed  out 
through  the  cell  walls ;  and  this  oxygen  is  as  good  to 
breathe  as  the  other  gas  (carbon  and  oxygen  mixed) 
is  bad. 

So  the  plant  finds  good  what  we  find  poisonous.  It 
takes  in  and  keeps  that  which  hurts  us  (the  carbon),  and 
sends  out  that  which  helps  us  (the  oxygen). 

So  you  see  that  our  lives  depend  on  the  lives  of  plants 
in  two  ways  :  — 

i.  The  plants  give  us  the  food  we  need  for  life. 

2.  The  plants  take  from  the  air  the  gas  that  poisons 
us,  and  give  to  the  air  the  gas  which  we  need  for  life 
and  health. 

And  in  both  cases  it  is  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam  who 
are  making  life  possible  for  us. 

Remember  the  great  services  of  these  two  fairies 
when  next  you  pass  a  green  tree  which  is  bathing  itself 
in  sunshine. 


153 


HOW    A    PLANT    BREATHES 

PERHAPS  you  have  heard  people  say  that  it  is  not 
good  to  sleep  in  a  room  with  plants. 

They  say  this,  because  they  have  heard  that  at  night 
the  plant  does  not  give  out  oxygen,  but  that  it  does 
give  out  the  poisonous  carbonic-acid  gas. 

Now,  you  children  know  that  part  of  this  statement 
is  true. 

You  know  that  the  plant  cannot  give  out  oxygen  at 
night,  because  at  that  time  there  is  no  Sunbeam  about 
to  help  Leaf  Green  tear  apart  carbonic-acid  gas  and 
send  the  oxygen  back  into  the  air. 

But  how  about  the  other  part  of  the  statement  ? 

Is  it  true  that  at  night  plants  give  out  the  poisonous 
carbonic-acid  gas  ? 

Both  day  and  night,  plants  give  out  carbonic-acid  gas  ; 
for  though  plants,  save  in  the  sunlight,  cannot  eat  by 
means  of  their  little  green  cells,  they  can  breathe 
through  the  tiny  mouths  (Fig.  137)  on  the  under  side 
of  the  leaf  by  night  as  well  as  by  day. 

And  when  either  a  plant  or  an  animal  breathes,  it 
takes  the  life-giving  oxygen  from  out  the  air  mixture, 
and  keeps  it  for  its  own  use.  But  poisonous  carbonic- 
acid  gas  is  sent  back  into  the  air.  Now,  the  question  is, 
whether  a  plant  does  most  good  or  most  harm  to  the  air 
by  taking  in  and  sending  out  the  different  gases. 

Of  course,  it  does  good  when  it  lets  the  oxygen  out 
through  its  cell  walls,  and  stores  away  the  carbon  within 
itself  ;   and  it  may  seem  to  do  harm  when  through  its 


159 

leaf  mouths  it  breathes  in  oxygen  and  breathes  out 
carbonic-acid  gas. 

There  is  only  one  key  to  unlock  the  matter,  and  that 
is  this,  —  to  find  out  whether  the  plant  does  most 
towards  poisoning  or  towards  purifying  the  air. 

And  that  has  been  found  out  already. 

Wise  men  say  that  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam  do 
much  more  good  to  the  air  than  the  little  breathing 
mouths  do  harm.  The  two  good  fairies  take  away  a 
great  deal  of  poison,  and  send  back  a  great  deal  of  the 
helpful  oxygen  ;  while  the  tiny  mouths  neither  rob  the 
air  of  much  oxygen  nor  give  it  much  poison.  In- 
deed, the  harm  they  do  is  so  small  compared  with  the 
great  good  accomplished  by  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam, 
that  even  at  night  you  need  not  worry  at  the  thought 
that  you  have  plants  in  your  room. 

Perhaps  you  wonder  that  a  plant  does  these  two 
things  that  are  so  exactly  opposite  to  each  other. 

But  a  plant  must  breathe  as  well  as  eat ;  for  when  it 
breathes,  it  takes  in  the  precious  oxygen  which  is  just 
as  necessary  to  its  life  as  to  ours. 

In  summer,  by  the  dusty  roadside,  you  see  plants 
almost  white  with  dust,  looking  quite  ill  and  lifeless. 

And  they  are  both  ill  and  lifeless  ;  for  their  little  leaf 
throats  are  so  choked  that  they  cannot  breathe  in  the 
oxygen  they  need,  and  in  consequence  they  are  being 
slowly  suffocated. 


i6o 


THE    DILIGENT    TREE 

NOW  we  have  learned   three    things    about    plants, 
and  especially  about  leaves.     We  have  learned  — 
i.   That  they  perspire. 

2.  That  they  eat  and  drink. 

3.  That  they  breathe. 

They  perspire  when  the  water  passes  through  the 
leaf  mouths  into  the  air. 

They  eat  when  Leaf  Green  and  Sunbeam  together 
manage  to  take  the  carbon  out  of  the  carbonic-acid  gas 
which  has  made  its  entrance  through  the  leaf  mouth 
and  the  cell  wall.  They  drink  when  the  roots  suck  in 
water  and  earth  broth. 

They  breathe  when  the  leaf  mouths  take  from  the  air 
the  oxygen,  and  give  back  to  it  carbonic-acid  gas. 

The  veins  and  veinlets,  of  which  you  see  so  many 
running  through  a  leaf,  act  in  something  the  same  way 
as  the  water  pipes  of  a  city ;  for  through  these  veins 
the  watery  food,  the  earth  broth,  is  carried  to  the  dif- 
ferent cells. 

When  one  knows  all  that  we  know  even  now  about 
a  plant,  one  looks  at  a  tree  covered  with  leaves  with  a 
good  deal,  of  admiration. 

Just  think  of  what  is  being  done  inside  that  quiet- 
looking  tree  !  Think  of  the  millions  of  cells  that  go 
to  make  it  up,  each  cell  having  its  own  work  to 
do  !  Think  of  the  immense  amount  of  business  being 
carried  on  within  the  trunk,  inside  the  branches,  and 
especially  in  each  green  leaf  !     And  when  you  have  the 


i6i 

chance,  notice  how  hard  each  leaf  tries  to  get  just  as 
much  sun  and  air  as  it  possibly  can. 

In  the  first  place,  the  thin,  flat  leaf  blades  are  so 
spread  out  that  every  part  is  exposed  to  the  light 
and  air. 

Then  notice  how  the  leaves  are  placed  in  reference 
to  one  another. 

Almost  every  single  one  is  fastened  to  the  tree  so 
as  to  get  its  fair  share  of  sunshine. 

When  you  think  of  the  many  thousands  of  leaves 
borne  by  one  tree,  it  astonishes  you  to  see  how  seldom 
one  leaf  gets  in  another's  light. 

And  the  shapes  of  leaves  are  always  suited  to  their 
arrangement  on  the  tree. 

If  you  should  take  the  leaves  of  a  chestnut  tree  and 
replace  them  by  the  leaves  of  a  maple,  you  would 
find  the  maple  leaves  all  getting  in  each  other's  way,  or 
else  you  would  see  that  they  were  taking  up  a  great 
deal  more  room  than  necessary. 

But  when  a  leaf  is  studied  on  its  own  tree,  one  sees 
that  its  shape  is  the  very  best  that  could  be  imagined 
for  its  position. 

And  in  the  smaller  plants  we  notice  this  same  thing. 

And  when  you  remember  that  Leaf  Green  cannot 
feed  the  plant  unless  Sunbeam  comes  to  her  assistance, 
you  realize  how  necessary  it  is  that  each  leaf  be  within 
the  reach  of  Sunbeam's  visits. 

DANA'S    PLANTS.  —  1 1 


162 


LEAVES   AND    ROOTS 


YOU  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  the  way  in  which 
a  plant's  leaves  grow  tells  us  something  of  the 
way  in  which  its  roots  grow. 

Many  of  you  have  been  overtaken  far  from  home  in 
a  rainstorm,  and  have  sought  shelter  under  a  spreading 
tree.  The  ground  directly  beneath  the  tree  has  kept 
almost  dry  even  after  some  hours  of  rain,  but  the 
earth  just  under  the  tips  of  the  spreading  branches  got 
very  wet:  for  the  great  tree  acted  like  a  large  umbrella; 
and  when  the  raindrops  fell  upon  the  smooth  leaves, 
which  sloped  outward  and  downward,  they  rolled  from 
leaf  to  leaf  till  they  reached  the  very  lowest,  outermost 
leaves  of  all.  From  these  they  fell  to  the  ground,  just 
as  the  drops  that  gather  upon  your  umbrella  run  out- 
ward and  downward  to  the  umbrella's  edge,  and  then 
off  upon  the  ground. 

So  you  can  see  that  the  circle  of  earth  which  marks 
the  spread  of  the  branches  above  must  be  specially  wet, 
as  it  received  a  great  part  of  the  rain  which  fell  upon 
the  whole  tree. 

And  whenever  you  see  a  tree  which  sheds  the  rain 
water  in  such  a  circle,  you  can  be  pretty  sure  that,  if 
you  should  dig  into  the  earth  a  ditch  which  followed 
this  circle,  you  would  soon  reach  the  tips  of  the  new 
root  branches  of  the  tree. 

You  know  that  the  root  does  the  drinking  for  the 
plant ;  and  only  the  newest  parts  of  the  root,  the  fresh 
root  tips,  are  really  good  for  work  of  this  sort.     You 


163 


remember  that  the  earth  food  is  carried  up  the  stem  to 
the  leaves  in  a  watery  broth  ;  and  that  if  the  water 
supply  should  give  out,  the  new  plant  cells  would  not 
get  the  broth  which  helps  them  to  grow,  and  to  put  out 
other  cells,  and  so  to  build  up  the  plant. 

Now,  as  only  the  new  root  branches,  near  their  tips, 
are  able  to  drink,  if  the  water  should  leak  through 
the  earth  in  equal  quantities 
everywhere,  much  of  it  would 
be  wasted ;  but  when  this 
water  is  collected  in  certain 
spots  within  reach  of  the  new 
root  branches,  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe  that  these 
will  be  able  to  satisfy  their 
thirst. 

By  the  shedding  of  the  rain 
from  the  tips  of  the  spreading 
branches  above,  the  water  is 
collected  in  a  ring,  and  so 
sinks  into  the  earth ;  and  the 
root  branches  below  spread 
out  in  just  the  same  direction 
as  the  tree  branches  above,  till  they  find  what  they 
need,  and  drink  their  fill. 

So  by  the  way  in  which  a  tree  sheds  the  rain,  you 
can  tell  just  where  its  root  branches  reach  out  under- 
ground. 

In  smaller  plants  you  see  much  the  same  thing. 
Fig.  138  shows  a  plant  called  the  Caladium.  You  can 
see  that  the  raindrops  must  roll   outward   down  these 


164 


leaves,  and  fall  upon  the  earth  just  above  the  tips  of 
the  root  branches. 

Fig.  139  shows  you  the  rhubarb  plant.  This  has 
quite  a  different  sort  of  root.  Now,  if  the  rhu- 
barb leaves  were  like  those  of  the  Caladium,  unless 
the  rhubarb  root  -  branches 
changed  their  direction,  these 
root-branches  would  grow  very 
thirsty  indeed. 

But  as  it  is,  the  water  pours 
down  these  leaves  toward  the 
center  of  the  plant,  and  reaches 
the  ground  almost  directly  over 
the  straight,  fleshy  root,  with 
its  downward-growing  branches ; 
and  we  see  that  these  root- 
branches  are  watered  by  the 
leaves  above  just  as  carefully  as 
are  those  of  the  Caladium. 

By  knowing  one  thing  about 
a  plant,  often  you  can  guess 
that  another  thing  is  so. 
You  understand  now  that  when  the  leaves  of  a  plant 
shed  rain  water  after  the  fashion  of  the  Caladium,  the 
chances  are  that  its  root-branches  spread  out  as  far 
as  the  drip  of  the  water;  and  that  the  root  of  the 
rhubarb  points  almost  straight  downward,  is  told  you 
by  the  drip  of  water  from  the  rhubarb  leaves. 


Fig.  139 


i6< 


LEAF    VEINS 

SOME  time  ago  you  learned  that 
from  the  stem  of  a  plant  you 
could  guess  the  number  of  seed  leaves 
which  it  brought  into  the  world,  and 
that  in  the  same  way  from  the  seed 
leaves  you  could  guess  what  kind  of  a 
stem  it  would  build  up. 

From  the  way  in  which  a  leaf  is 
veined  you  can  guess  both  of  these 
things.  You  can  guess  what  sort  of  a 
stem  belongs  to  the  plant,  and  with  how 
many  seed  leaves  it  began  life. 

When  the  little  veins  run  in  and  out, 
form-  k  ing  a  sort  of  network,  we  say 
that       h\   the  leaf  is  "  net-veined 


Fig.  140 


^liiiWll'.,»f,iw^, 


jfuiUft, 


Fig.  142 


These  leaves  of  the  quince  (Fig.  140),  the  maple  1  Fi< 
141),  and  the  basswood  (Fig.  142)  are  all  net-veined. 


1 66 


Net-veined  leaves  are  borne  by  plants  which  brought 
into  the  world  more  than  one  seed  leaf;  and  with  the 
net-veined  leaf  we  can  expect  to  find  that 
stem  which  comes  with  more  than  one  seed 
leaf,  —  a  stem  where  the  skin  or  bark,  the 
woody  rings,  and  the  soft  central  pith,  are 
clearly  separated  one  from  another. 

But  a  leaf  such  as  that  in  Fig.  143  or  that 
in  Fig.  144,  where  the  veins  do 
not  branch  off  in  a  network,  but 
run  in  unbroken  lines  side  by 
side,  —  such  leaves  as  these  tell 
you  that  they  are  borne  by  plants 
which  started  life  with  only  one  seed  leaf, 
and  which  have  such  a  stem  as  the  corn- 
stalk, where  you  see  no  woody  rings  or 
central  pith. 

These  leaves  are  called  "parallel-veined." 
I  fear  that  you  find  all  this  a  little  diffi- 
cult to  understand  and  to  remember ;  but  if  you  read  it 
patiently,  when  you  study  the  botany  for  older  children, 
I  think  it  will  come  back  to  you  and  make  your  lessons 
easier. 


Fig.  143 


Fig.  144 


LEAF    SHAPES 

AS  I  told  you  before,  we   should   notice   al 
ways  the  shape  of  a  leaf. 
It  is  much  easier  to  describe  some 
new  plant  we  have  met  on  our  walks  if 
we   remember   the   shape   of   its  leaves. 
Next  summer  I   hope  you  will  make 
collection    of    leaves,    pressing   and    keeping 
them.     I   think  you   will   be    amazed    at   their 
great  variety  in  shape. 
Some    you     find    long 
and    narrow,    others 
almost  round.    Some 
f  s~-^\   are     arrow  -  shaped, 
(,/^/W^  others  star  -  shaped, 
//^^     others  needle-shaped 
^yp  (Fig.  145).     Some  are 
three-pointed   like   the 
maple  leaf  (Fig.  146); 
others    deeply- parted, 
like  the  oak  leaf  (Fig. 

i47> 

167 


Fig.  145 


Fig.  146 


1 68 


Fig.  147 


Sometimes  a  large  leaf  is  cut  up  into 
several  little  leaves.  These  little  leaves 
are  called  "  leaflets." 

The  clover  leaf  (Fig.  148)  has 
three  leaflets. 

The  locust  leaf  (Fig.  149)  is 
cut  into  a  great  many  leaflets. 

The    edge    of    one    leaf    (Fig.    150)   is 
smooth,  while  that  of  another  is  cut  into    Fig.  148 
little  teeth  (Fig.  1 5 1)  like  the  teeth  of  a  saw. 

I  should  like  to  know  how  many  of  you 
children,  without  looking  even  at  a  picture 
save  such  as  you  carry  in  that  little  gallery 
in  your  head,  could  describe  cor- 
rectly the  shapes  of  some  of  our 
common  leaves.  I  should  like  to 
ask  you  to  draw  on  the  blackboard 
the    rough    outlines   of    any   leaves 


Fig.  149 


Fig.  150  Fig.  151 

that  you  remember.  If  you  think 
you  could  not  do  this,  will  you  not 
try,  when  next  you  see  a  leaf,  to 
carry  off  in  your  mind  such  a  pic- 
ture of  it  as  to  enable  you  to  outline 


i6g 

it  on  the  blackboard  when  you  go  back  to  the  school- 
room ? 

Really  it  does  not  take  any  more  time  to  see  a  thing 
correctly  than  to  see  it  incorrectly.  It  takes  a  little 
more  sense,  that  is  all. 

It  takes  some  sense  to  give  even  one  minute  oi 
honest  thought  to  the  thing  you  are  looking  at. 

You  know  some  children  who  never  seem  to  have 
all  their  thoughts  in  one  place  at  a  time,  and  who  in 
consequence  never  see  anything  really  well. 

It  is  better  to  stop  doing  a  thing  altogether  than 
to  do  it  in  a  foolish  sort  of  way ;  and  it  is  foolish  to 
start  to  do  even  the  smallest  thing,  and  yet  not  do  it. 

The  child  who  looks  at  even  a  leaf  in  a  way  to 
make  it  possible  for  him  to  draw  the  outline  of  that 
leaf  five  minutes  later,  is  likely  to  be  the  child  who 
goes  in  for  both  work  and  play  with  all  his  heart,  and 
who  comes  out  as  far  ahead  on  the  playground  as  he 
does  in  the  schoolroom. 

Now,  after  that  lecture,  which  some  of  you  need 
badly  enough  (and  which  I  will  tell  you,  as  a  great 
secret,  I  need  not  a  little  myself),  I  want  to  point  out 
a  few  more  of  the  things  that  are  worth  noticing  in  a 
leaf. 

But  perhaps  it  is  better  to  save  them  for  another 
chapter. 


170 


HAIRY    LEAVES 

NOTICE  always  whether  a  leaf  is  smooth  or  hairy. 
Do  you  remember  the  mullein  that  sends  up 
its  tall  spires  over  the  hill  pasture  ?  The  grayish 
leaves  of  this  mullein  are  so  hairy  that  they  feel 
almost  like  wool.  What  is  the  use  of  all  this  hair  ? 
It  is  not  likely  that  a  plant  would  wrap  itself  in  this 
hairy  coat  except  for  some  good  reason. 

It  is  believed  that  this  coating  of  the  mullein  pre- 
vents animals  from  eating  the  leaves,  and  so  destroy- 
ing the  plant.  In  the  mouth,  these  hairs  slip  from 
the  leaf  blade,  and  cause  a  most  unpleasant  sensation. 

But  usually  the  hairs  on  a  leaf  are  helpful  because 
they  prevent  too  much  perspiration  or  giving-off  of 
water.  The  more  freely  the  hot  sun  beats  upon  a 
leaf,  the  more  quickly  the  water  is  drawn  away  from 
it.  You  can  see  just  how  this  is  by  hanging  a  wet 
towel  in  front  of  the  fire.  In  a  very  short  time  the 
heat  from  the  burning  coals  draws  the  water  from 
the  towel.  But  put  a  screen  between  the  fire  and 
the  towel,  and  the  water  passes  off  more  slowly. 

Now,  the  hairs  on  that  side  of  the  leaf  which  faces 
the  sun  act  as  a  screen  from  its  fierce  heat.  We  have 
learned  how  important  it  is  that  the  leaf  should  not 
part  with  its  water  more  quickly  than  the  roots  can 
make  up  the  loss.  We  know  that  when  a  leaf  does 
this,  it  wilts  just  as  a  leaf  wilts  when  it  is  picked  and 
cut  off  from  its  water  supply,  on  account  of  the  col- 
lapse of  the  walls  of  the  many  little  cells  which  are 
emptied  of  water. 


So  you  can  understand  that  plants  which  grow  in 
dry,  sunny  places,  where  there  is  little  drinking  water 
for  the  roots,  and  where  the  sun  beats  constantly  on 
the  leaves,  must  take  every  care  that  there  is  no 
waste  of  water. 

And  if  you  keep  your  eyes  open,  you  will  discover 
that  many  of  the  plants  which  grow  in  such  places 
screen  themselves  from  the  full  heat  of  the  sun  by  a 
coat  of  hairs. 

The  plant  called  "life  everlasting"  is  one  which 
grows  in  dry,  open,  sunny  places.  It  clothes  its  leaves 
with  silky  hairs,  and  so  prevents  them  from  throw- 
ing off  too  quickly  the  small  amount  of  water  its  roots 
are  able  to  provide.  Without  this  silky  coat,  the  sun 
would  suck  its  leaves  quite  dry  of  water. 

Sometimes  a  leaf  has  only  a  few  of  the  little  leaf 
mouths  through  which  most  of  the  water  passes.  As 
these  mouths  are  wide  open  only  in  the  sunlight,  and 
as  often  the  rest  of  the  leaf  is  covered  with  a  thick 
skin  which  prevents  the  water  from  slipping  away  (as 
a  little  of  it  nearly  always  does)  through  the  cell  walls, 
such  a  leaf  will  hold  its  water  supply  and  keep  fresh 
for  a  long  time.  Such  leaves  as  these  we  find  on  what 
we  call  "evergreen"  plants.  The  pines  and  hemlocks 
which  light  up  the  woods  all  winter  have  these  thick- 
skinned,  few-mouthed  leaves,  which  throw  off  so  little 
water  that  even  when  the  ground  is  frozen  hard,  and 
gives  no  drinking  water  to  the  roots,  they  are  able  to 
keep  fresh  by  the  careful  way  in  which  each  one 
hoards  its  own  little  supply. 


172 


WOOLLY    AND    "DUSTY"    LEAVES 

CURIOUSLY  enough,  some  plants  put  on  a  hairy 
coat  for  just  the  opposite  reason  from  the 
one  which  makes  life  everlasting  clothe  itself  in  that 
fashion.  Life  everlasting  fears  lest  its  leaves  throw 
off  their  water,   or  perspire  too  quickly. 

Down  by  the  stream  that  runs  through  the  meadow 
grow  great  clusters  of  the  pink-flowered  steeple  bush. 
If  you  look  at  the  lower  sides  of  the  leaves  of  the 
steeple  bush,  you  see  that  they  are  very  woolly.  As 
this  wool  is  not  between  the  sun  and  the  leaf  blade, 
it  cannot  be  meant  to  protect  the  leaves  from  the 
heat  of  the  sun ;  and  indeed  in  this  wet  meadow, 
close  to  the  river,  never  mind  how  quickly  the  leaves 
throw  off  their  water,  the  roots  can  have  no  difficulty 
in  finding  close  by  more  than  enough  to  make  good 
the  loss.  No,  the  fact  is  that  these  leaves  need  to 
throw  off  water  very  freely  indeed  to  make  room  for 
the  ever-fresh  supply  that  is  pushing  up  the  stem, 
and  their  woolly  covering  is  intended  to  help  them 
do  this  very  thing.  Its  object  is  to  aid  perspiration. 
In  swampy  places  the  moisture  rises  every  night  from 
the  wet  ground,  and  settles  on  the  plants  about.  The 
little  mouths  on  the  under  surfaces  of  the  leaves  of 
the  steeple  bush  would  soon  be  clogged  with  the  mois- 
ture rising  from  below,  if  they  were  not  protected  in 
some  way ;  and  if  they  became  so  clogged,  they  could 
not  throw  off  the  water  with  which  the  whole  plant  is 
charged.     Thus,  by  having  this  thick  coat  of  hair,  the 


water  that  otherwise  would  cling  to  the  outer  surface 
of  the  leaf  blade  is  kept  at  a  distance  from  the  little 
mouths,  and  these  are  not  interrupted  in  the  per- 
formance of  a  duty  so  necessary  to  the  health  of  the 
plant. 

This  same  habit  of  coating  its  lower  leaf  surfaces 
with  hair,  you  notice  in  the  speckled  or  swamp  alder,  a 
shrub  which  grows  also  in  wet  places,  and  therefore 
runs  the  same  risk  of  having  its  leaf  mouths  clogged 
with  water. 

So  when  you  see  only  the  upper  surface  of  a  leaf 
covered  with  hair,  you  can  guess  that  the  object  of  the 
plant  is  to  prevent  too  much  perspiration ;  but  when 
you  see  only  its  lower  side  clothed  in  this  same  way, 
you  can  guess  that  the  plant  fears  too  little  perspiration. 

Sometimes  you  find  a  plant  with  leaves  which  have  a 
coating  of  what  looks  almost  like  dust  on  one  or  both  of 
their  surfaces.  This  dust  we  call  " bloom."  We  see  it 
in  apples  and  grapes,  as  well  as  on  leaves.  It  is  made 
up  of  a  waxy  material  which  is  put  forth  by  the  plant 
just  as  it  puts  forth  hair.  This  bloom  the  plant  uses 
also  as  a  help  to  free  perspiration.  By  thus  clothing  its 
leaves  it  shields  the  little  mouths  from  water  clogging ; 
and  so  you  can  be  sure  that  the  little  mouths  have  not 
been  filled  with  water,  and  thus  prevented  from  doing 
their  work. 

The  cabbage  leaf  has  mouths  on  both  of  its  surfaces, 
and  so  both  sides  are  covered  with  this  protecting  bloom. 
If  you  dip  a  cabbage  leaf  in  water  and  then  shake  it,  the 
drops  roll  off  and  leave  it  quite  dry.  , 


PRICKLES    AND 
POISON 


LEAVES    need    to     ._ 
<  protect  themselves 
from  other  enemies  than 
too  great  heat  and  too 
much  water. 

We  found  that   the  prickly 
armor  of  the  thistle  enabled  it  to 
live  in  pastures  where  the  cattle  had 
killed  most  of  the  other  plants. 

Many  animals  like  to  eat  green 
leaves,  so  we  are  not  surprised  to 
find    that    plants    invent    different 
ways  of  protecting  themselves. 

One   look   at  the   leaf   of   the    thistle 
is  enough  to  persuade  us  that  it 
would  not  be  very  good  eat- 
ing. 

The  red-berried  holly, 
with  which  we  decorate 
our  churches  and      .-^  \ 

'    mm 


w 


c^m/T 


in 


J 


175 

houses  at  Christmas  time,  is  another  plant  with  prickly 
leaves. 

Some  plants  cover  their  leaves  with  bristles,  which 
the  cattle  dread  almost  as  much  as  the  stout  prickles. 

As  we  read  before,  the  mullein  defends  its  leaves  by 
a  fuzzy  coat  of  hair.  Such  an  armor  as  this  is  less 
warlike  than  that  of  the  thistle,  but  quite  as  effective. 

Other  plants  fill  their  leaves  with  juices  which  are 
either  poisonous  or  unpleasant. 

It  seems  as  if  animals  guessed  the  presence  of  these 
unfriendly  juices  by  the  plant's  smell,  for  they  will 
munch  the  different  growing  things  all  about  such  a 
plant  as  this,  and  leave  the  harmful  leaves  severely 
alone. 

The  nettles  cover  their  leaves  with  stinging  hairs. 
These  stiff  hairs  break  off  when  handled,  burying  them- 
selves in  the  flesh,  and  sending  out  a  burning  acid  that 
punishes  severely  the  meddler,  man  or  beast,  as  it  may 
happen  to  be. 

By  this  time  I  think  you  realize  that  leaves  are  well 
worth  noticing.  And  when  you  have  looked  at  a  leaf 
so  fully  as  to  be  able  to  carry  in  your  mind  its  outline, 
I  hope  you  will  then  discover  whether  it  wears  a  coat  of 
hair,  or  a  dusty  bloom,  or  a  prickly  armor,  or  a  thick, 
evergreen  skin,  and  that  you  will  decide  what  enemies 
it  is  trying  to  escape. 


I  ;6 


The     pitcher     plant     lives 
places,  such  as  the   shaded 
the    marsh    down  by   th< 

On    account    of    i 
it    is    brought    to 


SOME    CRUEL  TRAPS 

HAVE  you   ever   seen   a   leaf  like   the  one    in   this 
picture  (Fig.    152)? 
It  is  shaped  something  like  a  pitcher ;  and  the  plant 
on  which  it  grows  has  been  named  the  "pitcher  plant." 

in   low,    wet 

swamp,      or 

fj    lake. 

curious  leaves 

the  cities,  and  is 

treet  corners  or  at 

:    comes    the    great 
tcher  plant.     Some- 
times this  is  a  dull  red  ;    again  it  is  a  delicate  pink 
Fig.  152       or  perhaps  a  light  green  ;   and  it  has  a  faint,  pleasant 
fragrance. 

Next  June   I   hope  that   some   of    you    children    will 
find  these  beautiful    flowers    and  these  curious  leaves. 
Why  should  a  leaf  be  shaped  like  a  pitcher,  do  you 
suppose  ? 

These  leaves  are  not  only  pitcher-like  in  shape,  but 
also  in  their  way  of  holding  water;  for  if  you  succeed 
in  discovering  a  settlement  of  pitcher  plants,  you  will 
find  that  nearly  every  pitcher  is  partly  filled  with  rain 
water.  Usually  this  water  is  far  from  clear.  It  ap- 
pears to  hold  the  remains  of  drowned  insects ;  and 
sometimes  the  odor  arising  from  a  collection  of  these 
pitcher  plants  is  not  exactly  pleasant. 


177 

Perhaps  you  wonder  how  it  happens  that  dead  insects 
are  found  in  every  one  of  these  pitchers  ;  and  possibly 
you  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  apparently  these 
curious  leaves  are  built  for  the  express  purpose  of 
capturing  insects. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  that  these  odd  leaves  are  not 
so  well  fitted  as  more  simple  ones  to  cook  the  plant's 
food  in  the  sun,  or  to  take  carbon  from  the  air ;  but  if 
they  are  unfitted  to  provide  and  prepare  ordinary  food, 
possibly  they  are  designed  to  secure  food  that  is 
extraordinary. 

It  seems  likely  that  the  pitcher  plant  is  not  content 
to  live,  like  other  plants,  upon  the  simple  food  that  is 
taken  in  from  the  earth  and  from  the  air.  We  are  led 
to  believe  that  it  wishes  something  more  substantial ; 
that  it  needs  a  meat  diet ;  and  that  to  secure  this,  it 
teaches  its  leaves  to  capture  flies  and  insects  in  order 
that  it  may  suck  in  their  juices. 

These  leaves  are  veined  in  a  curious  and  striking 
fashion.  The  bright-colored  veins  mav  convince  the 
insects  of  the  presence  of  the  sweet  nectar  in  which  they 
delight.  At  all  events,  in  some  way  they  are  tempted 
to  enter  the  hollow  leaf  ;  and,  once  they  have  crawled 
or  tumbled  down  its  slippery  inner  surface,  they  find  it 
impossible  to  crawl  back  again,  owing  to  the  stiff  hairs, 
pointing  downward,  which  line  the  upper  part  of  the 
pitcher. 

Even  if  they  have  wings,  it  is  difficult  for  them  to  fly 
upward  in  so  straight  a  line  as  would  be  necessary  to 
effect  their  escape. 

When  tired  out  in  their  efforts  to  get  out  of  this  cruel 
dana's  plants.  —  12 


1 78 


trap,  they  fall  into  the  water  at  the  bottom  of  the 
pitcher,  and  are  drowned.  Their  bodies  decay  and  dis- 
solve; and  it  is  thought  that  this  solution  is  taken  in  by 
the  leaf,  and  turned  over  to  the  plant  as  food. 

It  is  just  the  old,  sad  story  of  the  spider  and  the  fly, 
you  see,  only  now  it  is  the  pitcher  and  the  fly. 

But  be  sure  to  examine  one  of  these  pitchers  if  you 
possibly  can,  and  then  you  will  understand  better  how 
the  whole  thing  is  managed. 

The  leaf  in  this  picture  (Fig.  153) 
for  it  is  a  leaf,  you  cannot  find  in  our 
North  American  swamps.  It  grows 
on  a  plant  called  Nepenthes,  a  plant 
which  lives  in  hot  countries  far  from 
the  United  States. 

The  leaf  in  the  picture  is  full 
grown,  and  all  ready  for  its  work  of 
trapping  animals.  Before  it  was  old 
enough  to  do  this,  the  lid  which  is 
now  lifted  was  laid  nicely  across  the 
opening  to  the  pocket,  and  so  prevented  any  unseason- 
able visits. 

Sometimes  these  pockets  are  so  large  as  to  be  able  to 
hold  and  to  hide  from  sight  a  pigeon.  They  are  gayly 
colored,  and  the  rim  around  their  border  is  covered  with 
a  sugary,  tempting  juice.  So  you  can  guess  that  the 
animals  in  search  of  nectar  are  not  slow  in  accepting 
the  invitation  offered  by  color  and  sweets,  and  that  some 
of  these  are  imprudent  enough  to  venture  across  the 
sticky  edge.  In  this  event  they  are  pretty  sure  to  lose 
their  footing  on  the  slippery  inner  surface  of  the  pocket, 


179 

and  to  fall  into  the  watery  liquid  with  which  it  is  filled. 
Even  if  they  do  not  slip  immediately,  their  efforts  to 
crawl  back  over  the  rim  are  defeated  by  a  row  of  teeth 
such  as  you  see  in  the  picture. 

The  liquid  at  the  bottom  of  the  leaf  is  not  rain  water, 
as   in  the   pitcher  plant.      It  is   given   out  by  the  leaf 


v& 


w 


■"V  I  i 


_' 


mm 


^?i 


Fig.  154 

itself;  and  it  contains  an  acid  which  dissolves  the 
animals'  bodies,  so  that  their  more  nourishing  parts  can 
easily  be  taken  in  by  certain  little  cells  which  line  the 
lower  part  of  the  pocket,  and  which  have  been  brought 
up  to  this  work. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  154)  shows  you  a  water  plant. 
It  is  called  the  "bladderwort,"  because  of  the  little  bags 


i8o 

or  bladders  which  you  see  growing  from  the  branches 
under  water.  The  little  bladders  are  traps  set  for  water 
animals,  which  swim  into  them  in  their  wish,  perhaps, 
to  escape  some  enemy.  But  they  are  quite  unable  to 
swim  out  again ;  for  the  door  into  the  bladder  is  trans- 
parent, and  looks  like  an  open  entrance  with  a  nice 
hiding  place  beyond.  It  opens  easily  from  the  outside, 
but  is  so  arranged  that  it  will  not  open  from  within. 
So  when  the  poor  little  animal  hurriedly  swims  into 
what  seems  to  it  a  cozy  resting  spot,  and  draws  a  long 
breath  of  relief  at  getting  safe  inside,  it  is  hopelessly 
caught,  and  must  slowly  starve  to  death,  for  there  is  no 
chance  of  escape.  It  may  live  for  nearly  a  week  in  this 
prison ;  but  at  last  it  dies.  Its  body  decays,  and  is 
taken  in  as  food  by  the  cells  set  apart  for  that  purpose. 
Strangely  enough,  though  we  ourselves  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  kill  animals  for  food,  and  sometimes,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  for  nothing  but  amusement,  we  give  a  little 
shiver  of  disgust  when  we  find  these  plants  doing  the 
same  thing.  Some  lines  that  came  out  in  one  of  the 
magazines  a  few  years  ago  express  this  feeling  :  — 

"What's  this  I  hear 
About  the  new  Carnivora? 
Can  little  plants 
Eat  bugs  and  ants 
And  gnats  and  flies  ? 
A  sort  of  retrograding! 
Surely  the  fare 
Of  flowers  is  air, 
Or  sunshine  sweet. 
They  shouldn't  eat 
Or  do  auofht  so  deeradinof." 


i8i 


MORE    CRUEL   TRAPS 


ives 


THE  plants  about  which  we  read  in  the  last  chapter 
do  not  take  any  active  part  in  capturing  insects. 
They  set  their  traps,  and  then  keep  quiet.  But  there 
are  plants  which  lay  hold  of  their  poor  victims,  and 
crush  the  life  out  of  them  in  a  way  that  seems  almost 
uncanny. 

This  leaf  (Fig.  155)  belongs  to  a   plant  which 
in  North  Carolina.     It  is  called  Venus's 
flytrap. 

You  see  that  the  upper,  rounded  part 
of  the  leaf  is  divided  by  a  rib  into  two 
halves.  From  the  edges  of  these 
rounded  halves  run  out  a  number  of 
long,  sharp  teeth;  and  three  stout  bris- 
tles stand  out  from  the  central  part  of 
each  half.  When  an  insect  alights  upon 
this  horrible  leaf,  the  two  halves  come 
suddenly  together,  and  the  teeth  which 
fringe  their  edges  are  locked  into  one  an- 
other like  the  fingers  of  clasped  hands. 

The  poor  body  that  is  caught  in  this  cruel  trap  is 
crushed  to  pieces.  Certain  cells  in  the  leaf  then  send 
out  an  acid  in  which  it  is  dissolved,  and  other  cells 
swallow  the  solution. 

After  this  performance  the  leaf  remains  closed  for 
from  one  to  three  weeks.  When  finally  it  reopens,  the 
insect's  body  has  disappeared,  and  the  trap  is  set  and 
ready  for  another  victim, 


Fig.  1 : 


182 


The  next  picture  (Fig.  156)  shows  you  a  little  plant 
which   is  very  common  in  our  swamps,  —  so  common 
that  some  of  you  ought  to  find  it  without 
difficulty  next   summer,   and  try  upon  it 
some  experiments  of  your  own. 

It  is  called  the  "sundew."     This  name 
has  been  given  to  it  because  in  the  sun- 
shine its  leaves  look  as  though  wet  with 
dew.     But  the  pretty  drops  which  sparkle 
like  dew  do  not  seem  so  innocent  when  you 
know  their  object.     You  feel  that  they 
are  no  more  pleasing  than  is  the  bit  of 
cheese  in  the  mouse  trap. 

When  you  see  this  plant  growing 
in  the  swamp  among  the  cranberry 
vines  and  the  pink  orchids,  you 
admire  its  little  white  flowers,  and  its  round  red-haired 
leaves,  and  think  it  a  pretty,  harmless  thing.  But  bend 
down  and  pluck  it  up,  root  and  all,  out  of  the  wet, 
black  earth.  Carry  it  home  with  you,  and,  if  you  have 
a  magnifying  glass,  examine  one  of  its 
leaves. 

The  picture  (Fig.  157)  shows  you  a 
leaf  much  larger  than  it  is  in  life.  The 
red  hairs  look  like  pins  stuck  in  a 
cushion,  and  the  head  of  each  pin  glis- 
tens with  the  drop  that  looks  like  dew. 

But  the  ants  and  flies  do  not  take 
these    drops    for    dew.      They    believe 


Fig.  15; 


them  to  be  the  sweet  nectar  for  which  they  long,  and 
they  climb  or  light  upon  the  leaves  in  this  belief. 


i83 


And  then  what  happens  ? 

The  next  two  pictures  will  show  you  (Figs.  158,  159) 
The  red  hairs  close  slowly  but  surely  over  the  insect 
whose  legs  are  already  caught  and  held  fast 
by  the  sticky  drops  it  mistook  for  nectar, 
and  they  hold  it  imprisoned  till  it  dies  and 
its  juices  are  sucked  in  by  the  leaf. 

I  should  like  you  to  satisfy  yourselves 
that  these  leaves  act  in  the  way  I  have  de- 
scribed.    But  a  bit  of  fresh  meat  will  excite 

the  red  hairs  to  do  their  work  quite  as 
well  as  an  insect,  and  I  hope  in  your 
experiments  you  will  be  merciful  as  well 
as  inquiring. 

So  you  see  that  the  little  sundew  is  quite 
as  cruel  in  its  way  as  the  other  insect- 
eating  plants.  But  its  gentle  looks  seem  to 
have  deceived  the  poet  Swinburne,  who  won- 
ders how  and  what  these  little  plants  feel,  whether  like 
ourselves  they  love  life  and  air  and  sunshine. 


Fig.  ic8 


Fig.  159 


;A  little  marsh-plant,  yellow-green 
And  tipped  at  lip  with  tender  red. 
Tread  close,  and  either  way  you  tread, 

Some  faint,  black  water  jets  between 
Lest  you  should  bruise  its  curious  head. 


"  You  call  it  sundew ;  how  it  grows, 
If  with  its  color  it  have  breath. 
If  life  taste  sweet  to  it,  if  death 
Pain  its  soft  petal,  no  man  knows. 

Man  has  no  sight  or  sense  that  saith." 


84 


THE    FALL   OF   THE    LEAF 

YOU  know  that  in  autumn  nearly  all  the  leaves  fall 
from  the  trees.  To  be  sure,  a  few  trees  (such  as 
the  pines  and  hemlocks)  and  some  plants  (such  as  the 
laurel  and  wintergreen  and  partridge  vine)  do  hold  fast 
their  leaves  all  winter ;  but  these  are  so  few  as  com- 
pared with  the  many  plants  which  lose  their  leaves, 
that  they  hardly  count. 

Perhaps  you  never  stopped  to  wonder  why  most 
plants  get  rid  of  their  leaves  before  winter  comes  on ; 
but  you  feel  pretty  sure  now  that  there  is  some  good 
reason  for  a  habit  that  is  adopted  by  nearly  all  the 
plants  that  live  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

When  we  were  talking  about  the  way  in  which 
leaves  defend  themselves  from  different  dangers,  we 
found  that  evergreen  leaves,  the  leaves  which  hold  fast 
to  the  tree  and  keep  fresh  all  winter,  manage  to  keep 
their  water  safe  inside  their  cells  by  wearing  a  very 
thick  skin,  and  by  not  having  too  many  little  leaf 
mouths.  For  when  a  leaf  has  a  thin  skin  and  a  great 
many  mouths,  its  water  leaks  away  very  quickly.  And 
if  many  such  leaves  should  remain  upon  a  plant  into 
the  winter,  might  it  not  happen  that  they  would  let 
off  all  its  water  at  a  time  when  its  roots  could  not  find 
any  more  in  the  frozen  ground  ?  And  thus  might  not 
the  leaves  kill  the  plant  by  draining  it  quite  dry  ? 

So  you  can  see  why  it  is  well  for  most  plants  to 
shed  their  leaves  before  winter  comes  on  and  the  root's 
drinking  water  is  turned  into  ice. 


185 

But  when  a  plant  is  about  to  shed  its  leaves,  it  takes 
care  not  to  waste  the  precious  food  which  they  hold. 
This  food  it  draws  back  into  its  stem  and  roots,  laying 
it  away  in  safe  places  beneath  the  buds  which  are  to 
burst  another  year. 

It  is  this  action  on  the  part  of  the  plant  which 
changes  the  color  of  the  leaves  every  fall.  That  mate- 
rial which  makes  them  green  is  broken  up,  and  part 
of  it  is  taken  away.  That  which  is  left  is  usually 
yellow  or  brown  or  reddish,  and  gives  the  leaves  the 
beautiful  colors  we  see  in  our  October  woods. 

So  whenever  you  see  the  woods  changing  color, 
losing  their  fresh  green  and  turning  red  and  yellow, 
you  can  be  sure  that  the  trees  have  begun  to  prepare 
for  winter.  You  know  that  they  are  stowing  away 
their  food  in  warmer,  safer  places  than  can  be  supplied 
by  the  delicate  leaves.  And  when  all  the  food  has 
been  drawn  out  of  the  leaves,  and  packed  away  in 
the  right  spots,  then  the  plant  finishes  a  piece  of  work 
it  began  some  time  before.  This  piece  of  work  is  the 
building-up  of  a  row  of  little  cells  just  where  the  leaf- 
stalk joins  the  stem  or  branch.  When  this  row  is  com- 
plete, it  acts  almost  like  a  knife,  loosening  the  stalk 
from  the  stem. 

Then  the  leaf's  life  work  is  over;  and  with  the  first 
breeze,  the  emptv  shell,  which  is  all  that  is  left,  breaks 
away  from  the  parent  plant,   and  drifts  earthward. 


Part   VI  —  Flowers 


>**:< 


THE    BUILDING    PLAN    OF   THE    CHERRY 
BLOSSOM 

ONE  day  your  teacher  brought  to  school  a  branch 
broken  from  the  cherry  tree.  This  she  placed 
in  water,  standing  the  tumbler  on  the  sunny  window 
sill ;  and  now  its  buds  have  burst  into  a  glory  of  white 
blossoms. 

To-day  I  want  you  to  study  the  flower  of  the  cherry ; 
for  if  you  know  all  about  this  flower,  which  is  put 
together  in  a  rather  simple  way,  one  that  is  easy  to 
study,  it  will  not  be  so  difficult  for  you  to  understand 
other,  less  simple  flowers. 

You  may  wonder  why  I  do  not  wait  till  the  cherry 
tree  outside  is  in  blossom  ;  but  if  we  waited  till  May, 
other  flowers,  which  are  not  built  on  quite  so  simple  a 
plan,  would  have  come  and  gone,  and  you  would  not 
have  been  able  to  understand  them  so  well  as  if  you 
had  first  studied  the  simple  make-up  of  the  cherry 
blossom. 

Last  fall  we  learned  a  little  about  this  flower,  but  we 
had  only  its  picture  to  help  us  in  our  work  :  so  I  think 
it  well  to  begin  all  over  again. 

187 


In  looking  at  the  cherry  blossom  (Fig.  160),  we 
should  first  notice  the  green  cup  which  holds  the  rest 
of  the  flower. 

This  cup  is  divided  into  five  green  leaves. 
During  the  babyhood    of    the    flower,   when    it    was 
quite  too   young  to  face  the  cold,  windy  world,  these 
green  leaves  were  folded  together  so  as  to  shut  away 
from  all  harm  its  more  delicate  parts. 

Above  this  green  cup  we  see  a  circle  made  up  of  five 
white  leaves.  These  pretty  leaves  are  spread  outward 
as  if  they  were  quite  proud  of  themselves,  and  eager  to 
attract  attention. 

And  that  is  just  what  they  are  try- 
ing" to  do  ;  for  the  cherry  blossom  is 
not  wise  enough  to  know  that  here  in 
the  schoolroom  there  are  no  bee  visi- 
tors to  bring  it  yellow  dust,  and  to 
help  it  grow  into  a  cherry.  These 
leaves  are  the  little  handkerchiefs 
cherry  tree,  just  like  the  apple  tree  we 
long  ago,  uses  in  signaling  the  bees. 
Within  the  circle  of  white  leaves  you  see  a  quantity 
of  what  we  named  "pins  with  dust  boxes."  You  re- 
member that  these  dust  boxes  hold  the  powdery  mate- 
rial which  is  as  wonderful  as  Cinderella's  fairy  godmother 
in  its  power  to  do  strange  and  surprising  things. 

And  in  the  very  center  of  the  flower  you  find  a 
single  "  pin,"  as  we  called  it,  with  a  flat  top  which  is  not 
a  dust  box. 

But  you  remember  that  at  the  foot  of  this  pin  is 
another  sort  of  box,  a  seedbox  (Fig.    1 6 1 ). 


which  the 
read  about 


And  you  have  not  forgotten  that  it  is  on  the  fiat 
top  of  this  pin  that  the  bee  brushes  the  yellow  dust 
which  gives  new  life  to  the  seed  below,  and  turns  the 
little  case  of  the  seedbox  into  the  juicy  cherry. 

So  now  what  do  we  find  in  the  cherry  blossom? 
We  find 

i.    A  green  cup  cut  above  into  separate  leaves, 

2.  A  circle  of  white  leaves. 

3.  Some  pins  with  dust  boxes. 

4.  One  pin  with  a  seedbox. 

Here  you  have  the  plan  on  which  the  cherry 
blossom  is  built  (for  flowers,  like  houses, 
are  built  on  different  plans),  and  the  build- 
ing plan  of  the  cherry  blossom  is  one  of  the 
simplest  of  all.  So  it  is  well,  before  study- 
ing more  difficult  flowers,  to  feel  quite  at 
home  with    this    one.     And    you    must  try  FlG'  T  : 

to  remember  first  what  work  each  part  of  the  flower 
is  expected  to  perform;  for  you  see  that  the  leaves 
of  the  green  cup,  the  pretty  white  leaves,  the  pins 
with  dust  boxes,  and  the  pin  with  a  seedbox,  have 
each  and  all  their  special  task,  —  a  task  which  they 
alone  are  able  to  accomplish. 

Now,  in  talking  about  a  flower  it  is  troublesome 
to  use  a  great  many  words  where  one  would  answer 
every  purpose,  so  I  will  tell  you  what  these  different 
parts  of  the  flower  have  been  named ;  and  by  taking 
a  little  trouble  to  remember  these  names,  we  can 
save  a  good  deal  of  time. 

The  green  cup  is  called  the   "  calyx." 

"  Calyx"  is  a  Greek  word  meaning  "cup." 


190 

The  circle  of  leaves  which  grow  above  the  green 
cup  or  calyx  is  called  the  "  corolla." 

"  Corolla  "  comes  from  a  word  which  means  "  crown." 
The  pins  with  dust  boxes  are  called  "stamens." 
"Stamen"  comes  from  a  word  meaning  "to  stand." 
The  pin  with  a  seedbox  is  called  the  "pistil." 
"Pistil"  is  another  form  of  the  word  "pestle."     A 
pestle   is    an   instrument   used   in    the  drug  shops  for 
pounding  and  mixing  medicines.      You  might    ask   to 
look  at  one  the  next  time  you   are    sent   to   the    drug 
shop,  and  then  you  can  see  for  yourselves  if  it  really 
looks  like  its  namesake,  the  pin  with  a  seedbox. 

Perhaps    at   first   you    may   find    it  a   little    difficult 
to  bear  in  mind  these  four  words  with  their  meanings ; 
but   soon   they  will  become  quite  easy,   and  will   save 
you  much  trouble. 
Green  cup,  —  calyx. 
Circle  of  flower  leaves,  —  corolla. 
Pins  with  dust  boxes,  —  stamens. 
Pin  with  seedbox,  —  pistil. 

If  you  remember  the  names  of  these  four  parts  of 
the  flower,  how  the  different  parts  look,  and  what 
they  do,  you  will  have  made  a  good  start  in  the 
study  of  flowers. 


I9i 


LILIES 


1    THINK    most  of  you   know  by   sight  at  least  one 
of  the  three  following  flowers. 
I  have  asked  for  pictures  of  three 
different     kinds     of     lilies,    so 
that    the    city    and    country 
children       alike       may 
recognize      an       old 
friend;      for      every 
spring  the  white  Easter 
lily  (Fig.  162)  stands  outside 
the  flower   shops,   and    deco- 
rates the  churches,  and  trav- 
els through  the  streets  in  the  peddler's  cart;  while  in 
summer  time  the    country  is  bright  with   the   wood 
and  meadow  lilies  (Figs.  163,  164). 

And  I  hope  that  even  now  one  of 
the  living  blossoms  is  before  you,  for 
I  want  you  to  see  for  yourselves  what 
plan  these  lilies  use  in  flower  building. 
The  building  plan  of  the  cherry, 
you  remember,  began  with  a  green 
cup  or  calyx. 

Do  you  find  in  the  lily  any  green 
cup? 

No,  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort  in 
the  lilies.     You    see   only   a   circle   of 
In  the  last  chapter  you  learned  to  call 
such   a  circle  the  corolla.      But  the  wise  men  say  that 


192 


Fig.  164 


without  a  calyx  there  cannot  be  a  real  corolla.  So 
in  the  lily  we  will  speak  of  the  "flower  leaves"  in- 
stead of  the  corolla. 

Next  we  find  six  of   the  pins  with  dust 
boxes,  or  the  stamens. 

And  then  we   come   to  the   pin  with  a 
seedbox  below,  or  the  pistil. 

So  the  building  plan  of  the  lily  has  only 
three  divisions  :  — 

1.  Flower  leaves. 

2.  Stamens. 

3.  Pistil. 

If  you  look  at  the  lower  side  of  the  outer  row  of 
flower  leaves,  you  will  see  that  they  are 
streaked  with  green;  and  that  when  the 
flower  is  still  in  bud,  only  the  green, 
thick  parts  of  these  leaves  are  exposed 
to  the  wind  and  cold,  while  the  more 
delicate  parts  of  the  blossom  are  hidden 
almost  as  snugly  as  though  they  were 
covered  by  the  leaves  of  a  green  cup 
or  calyx. 

These  lilies  are  pleasant  flowers  to 
study.       Their   different    parts   are   so 
large  and  simple    that    you    have    no 
doubt  as  to  what  they  are  meant  for. 
The   bees  could   hardly  overlook    their 
great,    showy    handkerchiefs ;    and   the 
heaping    dust  boxes   must  powder   the 
visiting  bees  so  freely  with    golden   or        'f  Fio.  165 

brownish  dust,  that  plenty  of  this  is  sure  to  be  carried 


193 

to  the  pistil  of  a  neighboring  blossom;  and  the  flat  tip 
of  this  pistil  is  so  large  and  so  sticky,  that,  once  the  dust 
is  brushed  upon  it,  it  is  sure  to  stay  there  until  its 
wonderful  work  is   accomplished. 

The  gay  tulip  (Fig.  165)  is  a  cousin  to  the  lily. 
It  is  built  on  almost  the  same  plan.  There  is  no 
green  cup  in  the  tulip  ;  but  every  tulip  has 

1.  Flower  leaves. 

2.  Stamens. 

3.  Pistil. 

The  tip  of  the  tulip's  pistil  is  divided  into  three  parts. 


L 


ABOUT    STAMENS 

ET  us  take  a  good  look  at  the  stamens  of  the 
Easter  lily.  There  are  six  of  these.  Each  dust 
box  is  fastened  to  the  tip  of  a  tall  stalk.  Fig.  166 
shows  you  a  single  stamen  from  the  Easter  lily.  It  is 
drawn  somewhat  larger  than  life.  Its  box  has  opened, 
and  is  letting  out  some  grains  of  dust. 

There  are  many  different  kinds  of  stamens.  I  will 
show  you  some  pictures  that  will  give  you  an  idea 
of  their  great  variety.  Here  is  one  taken  from  the 
flower  of  the  shin  leaf  (Fig.  167).  The  dust  makes  its 
escape  through  two  little  openings  at  the  very  top  of 
the  box. 

That  shown  in  Fig.  168  is  from  the  barberry.  The 
sides  of  the  box  open  like  a  door  which  is  hinged  on 
Fig.  167  top.     This  arrangement  lets  out  a  quantity  of  dust. 

DANA'S    PLANTS.  —  I  ^ 


/ 

Fig.  166 


194 


Here  is  a  collection  of  stamens  of  different  sorts. 
Fig.  169  has  two  boxes  at  the  top  of  its  stalk, 
and  so  has  Fig.  171.  Fig.  172  has  a  cross-  m 
piece,  with  a  good-sized  box  at  one  end,  and 
only  the  little  beginnings  of  a  box  at  the 
other.  Fig.  170  has  a  similar  crosspiece,  with 
a  box  at  one  end  only. 

You    see    that   flower   faces    show   quite   as 
Fig.  168       much   variety  as  do  the  faces  of    the  people      F] 
you  know.      You  must  not  expect  to  find  stamens  all 
alike,  any  more  than  you  would  expect  all  the  boys  and 
girls  you  know  to  have  noses  of  the 
same  shape,  or  hair  of  the  same  color. 


Fig. 


Fig.  171  Fig.  172 

This  picture  (Fig.  173)  shows  you  all  the  stamens  of 
the  pea  blossom.  Do  you  notice  that  quite  a  number 
of  these  (nine,  in  fact)  grow  together  close 
about  the  pistil,  while  the  tenth  one  stands 
alone  ?  That  is  a  strange  custom  always 
observed  by  the  stamens  of  the  pea. 

Next  we   see   all  the  stamens  from  one  of 
the  tiny  flowers  of  the  golden-rod  (Fig.  174). 
These  are  very  much  larger  than  life.     There 
are  five  of  them,  fastened  together  in  a  sort 
173  ;•;  of   tube.       Split   open   this  tube  and    flatten       fig.  174 


195 


it  out.  Now  they  look  like  five  little  sisters,  arm  in 
arm   (Fig.    175). 

And  here,  again  joined  in  a  tube,  we  see  the  stamens 
of  the  mallow  (Fig.  176).  From  the  hollow  of  this  tube 
stand  out  the  tops  of  the  mallow's  pistils. 

Some  flowers  have  so  many  stamens  that  you  would 
find    it  almost   impossible  to   count    them.     This    little 


Fig.  175 


Fig.  176 


Fig.  177 


blossom  (Fig.   177),  the  enchanter's  nightshade  (drawn 
much  larger  than  life),  has  only  two. 

I  hope  that  you  children,  from  now  on,  will  be  un- 
willing to  pass  by  a  flower  without  looking  to  see 
whether  its  stamens  are  few  or  many ;  and  I  hope 
you  will  try  to  carry  away  in  your  minds  a  clear  idea 
of  the  size  and  shape  of  their  dust  boxes. 


FLOWER    DUST,    OR    POLLEN 

WHEN  a  child  smells  a  flower,  he  is 
apt  to  put  his  nose  right  into  the 
middle  of  the  blossom,  and  to  take  it  out  with 
a  dab  of  yellow  dust  upon  its  tip. 

When  he  brushes  off  this  dust,  of  course 
he  does  not  stop  to  think  that  each  tiny  grain 
holds  a  speck  of  the  wonderful  material  we 
read  about  some  time  ago,  the  material  with- 
out which  there  can  be  no  life. 

And  probably  he  does  not  know  that  the 
dust  grains  from  the  lily  are  quite  unlike 
those  which  he  rubs  upon  his  nose  when  he 
smells  a  daisy;  that  different  kinds  of  flowers 
yield  different  kinds  of  flower  dust. 

If  you  should  look  through  a  microscope 
\  at  a  grain  of  flower  dust  from  the  lily,  you 
would  see  an  object  resembling  Fig.   178. 

Fig.    179   shows  a  grain   from  the 


Ftg.  178   Ftg.  179 


Fig   182 


i97 

pretty  blue  flower  of  the  chicory.  Fig.  180  is  a  dust 
grain  from  the  flower  of  the  pine  tree.  Fig.  181  is 
from  the  laurel,  and  the  odd- 
looking  Fig.  182  is  from  a  dust 
box  of  the  evening  primrose. 

The   next  picture  (Fig.   183)  Fig    „ 

shows    you    a    group    of    dust 

grains  from  flowers  of  different  kinds,  one  looking 
like  a  porcupine,  another  like  a  sea  shell,  another  like 
some  strange  water  animal,  and  all,  I  fancy,  quite 
unlike  any  idea  you  may  have  had  as  to  the  appear- 
ance of  a  grain  of  flower  dust. 

When  you  are  older,  I  hope  it  may  be  your  good  luck 
to  see  through  a  microscope  some  of  the  odd  shapes  and 
curious  markings  of  different  kinds  of  flower  dust,  or 
"  pollen,"  as  this  flower  dust  is  called  in  the  books. 

And  now  that  you  know  something  of  the  appear- 
ance of  flower  dust,  perhaps  you  wish  to  learn  a  little 
more  of  the  way  in  which  it  ,  helps  the  flower  to 
turn  into  the  fruit. 


B 


ABOUT    PISTILS 

UT  first   you  must  know  a  little  something  about 

the  pistil,   if   I  am  really  to   make  clear  to  you 

how  the  flower  dust  helps  the  flower  to  change  into 
fruit. 

This  picture  (Fig.  184)  shows  you  the  pistil  of  the 

lily.     At  the  foot  of  this  pistil,  you  remember,  is  the 

Fig.  184  box  which  holds  the  lily's  seeds. 


The  top  of  the  lily's  pistil  is  quite  large  and  some- 
what flat.  It  is  almost  as  sticky  as  if  it  had  received 
a  dab  of  glue. 

This  flat  top  dwindles  below  into  a  stalk,  which 
grows  larger  again  at  its  lower  end. 

Now  take  a  sharp  knife  and  cut  open  lengthwise 
this  pistil. 

The  lower,  thicker  part,  seen  through  a  magnifying 
glass,  looks  like  Fig.  185.  You  see  a  great  many  baby 
seeds  fastened  to  a  central  wall.  Each  one  of  these 
seeds  holds  a  speck  of  the  wonderful  material  without 
which  there  is  no  life.  But  this  speck  of  life  has  not 
the  power  to  make  the  seed  grow  into  a  plant.  To  do 
this,  the  seed  must  have  some  outside  help ;  and  this 
help  can  come  only  from  a  grain  of  flower  dust. 

Perhaps  you  wonder  how  a  dust  grain  brushed  on 
the  pistil's  flat  top  can  ever  reach  the  baby  seeds 
hidden  away  in  the  seedbox. 
iL_A  I  could  not  tell  you  to-day  how  this  is  done  were 
Fig.  185  ^  n°t  for  those  wise  and  patient  men  and  women  who 
have  spent  days  and  weeks  and  months,  and  even 
years,  in   watching   and   studying   the  ways   of   plants. 

But  first  let  me  ask  you  a  question. 

What  happens  when  a  healthy  seed  falls  on  moist 
ground  ? 

Why,  it  seems  to  take  in  the  moisture,  and  to  thrive 
upon  it.  It  swells  up,  and  at  last  it  bursts  open,  and 
it  sends  a  root  down  into  the  earth. 

Now,  something  not  altogether  unlike  this  happens 
when  a  lily  dust  grain  falls  upon  the  moist  tip  of  a 
lily  pistil.     The  dust  grain  sucks  in  the  moisture.     It 


g 


v*Y/ 


199 


Fig.  187 


grows  bigger  and  bigger.  The  outer  skin  becomes  too 
small  for  the  swelling  contents.  At  last  it  bursts  open, 
letting  out  a  little  tube. 

This  little  tube  works  its  way  down  through  the 
stalk  of  the  pistil,  almost  as  a  root  pushes  down  into 
the  earth,  and  at  last  it  reaches  one  of  the  seeds  in 
the  seedbox  below. 

And  into  this  tiny  seed  the  little  tube  pushes  its  way. 
The   tube   has   carried  with    it  that    speck   of   won- 
derful living  material  which  every  dust  grain  holds 
And  when  this  living  speck  has  been  added  to  that   k     J 
which  the  seed  already  holds,  a  great  change  begins 
to  come  about. 

This  new  touch  of  life,  added  to  that  already  present, 
gives  the  lily  seed  the  power  to  grow  into  a  lily  plant. 
The  other  dust  grains  that  were  brushed  upon  the 
flat  top  of  the  lily's  pistil  act  in  just  the  same  way. 
Apparently  without  difficulty  the  different  tubes  find 
their  way  to  the  different  seeds,  till  at  last  each  one 
has  received  the  fresh  touch  of  life  without  which 
it  cannot  grow  into  a  lily  plant. 

I  cannot  show  a  lily  dust  grain  in  the  act  of 
sending  out  its  life-bearing  tube  ;  but  above  is 
a  dust  grain  (Fig.  186)  from  the  thorn  apple. 
You  see  that  it  has  burst  open,  and  that  a  tube 
is  pushing  its  way  out. 

This  picture  (Fig.  187)  is  that  of  a  pistil  seed- 
box  cut  open,  showing  you  a  tube  that  is  work- 
ing its  way  from  the  dust  grain  above  to  a  tiny 
seed  in   the   seedbox  below. 

As  I  told  you  in  the  last  chapter,  the  name  "  pollen  " 


Fig.  iSc 


200 


has  been  given  to  this  wonder-working  flower  dust.  A 
grain  of  flower  dust  is  a  grain  of  pollen. 

In  many  flowers  you  will  find  a  pistil  much  like  the 
one  that  you  see  in  the  lily. 

But  there  are  as  many  different  kinds  of  pistils  as 
there  are  different  kinds  of  stamens. 

This  pistil  (Fig.  188)  is  from  the  grass  of  Parnassus, 
that  pretty  white  flower  which  you  find  in  the  wet 
meadows  in  August  and  September.  It  has  no  real 
stalk,  you  see,  like  that  of  the  lily ;  but  it  is  quite  thick 


V 

Fig.  i  88  Fig.  189  Fig.  190  Fig.  191  Fig.  192 

all  the  way  from  top  to  bottom.     In   Fig.  189  it  is  cut 
across,  showing  the  seeds  inside. 

Many  pistils  that  are  joined  in  one  piece  below,  where 
the  seeds  are  held,  separate  above  into  two  or  more 
parts.  Fig.  190  shows  the  seed  holder  of  a  saxifrage, 
divided  into  two  pieces  above  ;  Fig.  191  gives  that  of 
the  Saint  John's-wort,  separating  into  three  parts ;  that 
of  the  sundew  (Fig.  192)  separates  into  six  parts. 
Fig.  193  is  a  section  of  the  pea  flower.  This  is  cut 
lengthwise  so  as  to  show  you  the  seeds  which  line  the 
inner  surface  of  the  pistil.  Here  you  have  the  baby 
pea  pod. 


201 


All  these  flowers  have  only  one  real  pistil,  —  one 
pistil  which  may  persuade  you,  by  the  way  in  which  it 
separates  above,  into  thinking  that  there  are 
more  than  one.  So  you  must  be  on  your 
guard  in  this  respect,  and  remember  that 
flowers  have  a  way  of  playing  tricks  with 
all  but  the  most  wide-awake  of  boys 
and  girls.  Look  long  and  carefully 
before  you  declare  that  a  flower  has 
only  one   pistil. 

Here  we  see  half  of  a  buttercup 
(Fig.  194).  The  buttercup  has  a  great 
many  entirely  separate  pistils.  Look 
sharply  at  the  pic- 
ture, and  you  will  see  them  crowded 
upon  the  little  thimble-shaped  ob- 
ject in  the  middle  of  the  blossom. 
Do  not  confuse  them  with  the 
stamens,  for  the  buttercup  has  also 
a  great  many  stamens.  When  but- 
tercup time  comes  round,  I  want 
every  one  of  you  to  look  at  these  many  pistils  and 
stamens. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  195)  shows  you  a 
strawberry.  In  the  strawberry  blossom  the 
pistils  are  so  small,  and  so  crowded,  and  so 
hidden  by  the  many  stamens,  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  see  them  ;  and  so  I  show  you  the  full- 
grown  berry,  with  little  pistils  scattered  all  over 
its   surface.     Each  of  those  tiny  objects  which 


Fig.  194 


Fig.  195 


stand    out   on  the  strawberry  is  a  separate  pistil. 


202 


Whenever  you  look  at  a  flower,  I  want  you  to 
remember  that  its  bright  flower  leaves  will  soon  fade 
and  fall,  and  that  its  stamens  will  lose  their  pollen  and 
wither  away,  but  that  the  pistil  or  pistils  will  remain, 
turning  at  last  into  the  ripened  fruit,  —  the  fruit  which  is 
the  end,  the  aim,  the  object,  of  the  plant's  life. 


>^c 


THE    FIRST    ARRIVAL 


I   SHOULD  like  to  ask  each  of  you  children  to  tell 
me  what  flower  you  believe  to  be  first  to  come  in 
the  spring. 

Some  of  you  have  never  stopped  to  think  about  this. 
But  there  are  sure  to  be  a  few  among  you  who  will 
name  one  special  flower  as  the  earliest  of  the  year. 


203 

Perhaps  even  in  March  you  may  have  ventured  into 
the  woods  to  look  for  the  lovely,  fragrant,  waxlike 
blossoms  of  the  trailing  arbutus.  You  know  the  shel- 
tered hollow  where  the  snow  first  melts  ;  and  there  the 
delicate  pink  flowers  make  you  glad  with  their  beauty, 
and  with  the  thought  of  the  good  time  coming.  To 
some  of  us  this  first  hunt  for  the  arbutus  is  one  of  the 
great  events  of  the  year.  It  means  the  beginning  of 
long,  delicious  hours  in  the  fresh  air,  with  birds  and 
trees  and  butterflies  and  wild  flowers  as  our  chosen 
companions. 

But  not  all  of  you  will  agree  that  this  trailing  arbutus 
is  the  first  spring  flower.  Many  think  the  violet  can 
lay  claim  to  this  honor.  The  yellow  violet  especially 
may  be  found  in  the  woods  before  the  trees  have  put 
forth  their  leaves. 

And  some  say  that  the  little  blue  liverwort  (some- 
times this  is  pink  or  white)  is  the  earliest  of  all ;  and 
others  vote  for  the  spring  beauty,  or  for  the  yellow 
adder's  tongue,  or  for  the  Dutchman's  breeches,  or  for 
the  anemone. 

And  still  others  say  that  the  marsh  marigold,  the 
shining  flower  that  in  April  gilds  the  wet  meadows, 
leads  the  procession. 

But  you  are  wrong,  every  one  of  you.  The  earliest 
blossom  of  the  year  makes  its  appearance  long  before 
any  of  these  flowers  you  have  mentioned. 

The  first  plant  to  blossom  knows  better  than  to  pro- 
claim the  change  of  season  by  anything  so  fragile  as  a 
violet,  an  anemone,  a  spring  beauty.  It  sends  out  its 
rather    coarse    little   flowers   under  the  protection  of  a 


204 


tough  waterproof  hood,  which  shields  them    from   the 
rude  winds  and  nipping  cold. 

This  plant  bears  the  ugly  name  of  skunk  cabbage 
(Fig.  196).  Its  broken  stem  and  leaves  give  out  an 
odor  which  at  once  persuades  you  that  its  title  is 
deserved. 

In  the  swamps  the  skunk  cabbages  send  up  by  the 
dozen  the  curious  purple  hoods  which  curl  about  the 
thick  clusters  of  little  flowers.  When  you  come  across 
a  colony  of  these  queer-looking  objects,  no  wonder  it 
never  occurs  to  you  that  the  first  flower 
of  spring  is  at  hand.  The  great  shiny 
hoods  look  more  like  snails  than  like 
flowers  ;  and  indeed  usually  the  flowers 
are  not  in  sight  at  all,  so  well  are  they 
shielded  by  these  hood-like  leaves. 

But  each  little  hidden  flower  has  four 
flower  leaves,  four  stamens,  and  one 
pistil.  When  they  have  been  dusted 
with  pollen  by  fly  visitors,  and  are  preparing  to  turn 
into  fruit,  the  purple  hoods  wither  away.  Then  the 
plant  sends  up  clusters  of  large  bright  green  leaves. 
In  June  you  see  these  great  leaves  everywhere  in  the 
wet  woods. 

So  if  you  wish  to  be  on  hand  to  welcome  the  very 
first  flower  of  the  year,  you  must  begin  to  keep  your 
eyes  open  by  the  end  of  February.  You  must  visit  the 
swamps  each  day,  and  look  for  the  purple  hoods  inside 
which  are  snugly  hidden  the  little  blossoms  of  the 
skunk  cabbage. 

And  I  advise  you  now  to  take  a  sheet  of  paper  and 


Fig.  196 


205 

make  a  list  of  the  plants  as  you  find  them  in  flower. 
Put  down  the  date  of  each  blossom  as  it  appears,  and 
the  place  where  you  find  it.  If  you  begin  to  do  this  as 
children,  and  keep  it  up  when  you  are  older,  you  will 
take  real  delight  in  the  habit.  Each  year  it  will  interest 
you  more  and  more  to  turn  back  to  the  old  lists  and 
discover  whether  the  flowers  are  on  time,  or  whether 
they  are  late  or  early  in  making  their  first  appearance. 

I  hope  your  teacher  will  start  you  at  once  with  such 
a  list ;  for  the  sooner  you  begin,  the  more  complete  will 
be  your  pleasure  in  this  delightful  season. 


sXKc 


PUSSY   WILLOWS 


SOON  after  the 
bage  has  sent 
hoods  comes  the 
pussy-willow 


skunk  cab- 
up    its    purple 


season.       But    it    is    not 

every  child  who   has  the   luck  to  be  in 

the  country  at  this  time. 

There  is  a  clean,  sweet  smell  in  the  air.    Down 

in  the  boggy  meadow,  just  before  nightfall,  the 

little  frogs  sing  so  loud  that  you  wonder  if  they 

are  trying  to  make  you  believe  the  birds  have  come  back. 

The  brook  is  getting   a   bright  green    border.     The 

buds  on  the  trees  are  so  big  that  you  feel  sure  in  a  few 


206 

hours  they  must  burst  open.  And  you  know  that  each 
new  day  may  bring  with  it  some  happy  surprise,  —  a 
bird,  a  leaf,  or  a  flower  that  you  have  not  seen  for  many 
a  long  month. 

So  when  you  find  the  willow  branches  set  thick  with 
silken  pussies,  you  know  that  a  happy  time  has  begun, 
at  least  for  you  country  children. 

And  even  the  city  children  learn  to  love  these  soft 
pussies  when  they  are  placed  in  tall  vases  on  the  teach- 
er's desk. 

If  you  look  carefully  at  the  different  branches,  you 
see  that  they  bear  different  kinds  of  pussies ;  and 
your  teacher  will  tell  you,  or  perhaps  you  will  dis- 
cover yourselves,  that  these  different  branches  were 
broken  from  different  trees. 

Do  you  know  what  each   "pussy,"  or  tassel,  is 
made  up  of  ? 

Each  tassel  is  made  up  of  many  tiny  flowers. 
Fig.  197  gut  wir|ow  flowers  are  built  on  quite  a  different 

plan  from  cherry  flowers.  If  you  pick  apart  one  of 
these  tassels,  and  examine  a  single  blossom,  you  will 
find  it  hard  to  believe  that  it  is  a  flower  at  all. 

On  one  branch  the  tassels  are  all  golden  yellow. 
The  flowers  that  make  up  these  yellow  tassels  have 
neither  flower  leaves  nor  pistils.  Each  blossom  has 
two  stamens  which  are  fastened  to  a  little  fringed  leaf, 
and  nothing  more.  Such  a  flower,  much  magnified,  is 
given  in  the  picture  (Fig.  197).  The  golden  color  comes 
from  the  yellow  pollen  which  has  been  shaken  from  the 
dust  boxes. 

The    other    branch    is    covered   with    silvery    green 


207 

tassels.  Each  flower  in  these  tassels  is  made  up  of  a 
single  pistil,  which  is  also  fastened  to  a  little  fringed 
leaf  (Fig.    198). 

So  you  see  the  building  plan  used  by  one  kind  of 
pussy-willow  flowers  is  nothing  but  two  stamens ; 
while   the   plan    used   by   the    other   kind   is  still 
simpler,  it  is  nothing  but  one  pistil. 

The  golden  dust  is  carried  by  the  bees  from 
the  willows  which  bear  dust  boxes  to  those  other 
willows  whose  flowers  have  only  seedboxes. 

When  they  have  given  to  the  bees  their  pollen, 
the  yellow  tassels  fade  away;  but  the  silvery 
green  tassels,  on  account  of  their  seedboxes,  grow 
large  and  ripe,  turning  into  the  fruit  shown  in  Fig. 
62,  p.  61  ;  and  this  fruit  is  one  of  the  kind  which 
scatters  its  seeds  abroad  by  fastening  them  to  silky 
sails. 


&*< 


ALDERS   AND    BIRCHES 

THERE  is  another  shrub  or  low  tree  growing  along 
the  brook's  edge  which  flowers  almost  as  early  as 
the  willows. 

This  is  the  alder. 

Perhaps  you  noticed  last  fall  that  these  alders  were 
hung  with  a  quantity  of  little  green  tassels.  These 
tassels  did  not  fall  off  with  the  leaves  in  November. 
Through  the  long  winter  they  clung  to  the  shrub 
Sometimes  they  wore  little  coats  of  ice  which  made 


208 


them    look    like    the    glass    ornaments  on  a  Christmas 
tree. 

When  the  warm  weather  came,  they  put  off  their  ice 
coats,  and  grew  larger  and  longer, 
and  at  last  let  out  a  quantity  of 
stamens. 

But  on  the   same   alder    tree   that 
bears    these    tassels     with      flowers 
made  up  of   stamens    or  dust  boxes 
(Fig.  199,  a),  you  find  also  the  tassels 
flowers  made  up  of  pistils  (Fig.  199,  b). 
you  make  a  search,  you  will 
the     little     upright    clusters 
composed  of  these  flowers  with  pistils. 

Late  in  the    year,  when   these 

clusters  have  turned  into  fruit,  they 

look  like  this  picture  (Fig.  200). 

The  pretty  birches  are  cousins 

to  the  alders,  and  keep  house  in 
much  the  same  way,  bearing  the 
tassels  with  stamens  (Fig.  201,  a) 
and  the  little  clusters  made  up  of 
flowers  with  pistils  (Fig.  201,  b)  on  the 
same  tree. 

The  tassels  on  some  of  the  birches  are 
very  beautiful.  When  full  grown,  they  are 
golden  yellow,  and  so  long  and  soft  and 
;raceful  that  one  feels  like  stroking  them 
and  playing  with  them  as  he  would  with  a 
kitten. 
Fig.  201  I    hope    every    country   child  who  reads 


Fig.  200 


209 


this  book  and  does  not  already  know  the  willows,  the 
alders,   and   the   birches,  will  make  their  acquaintance 


this  spring,  and  will 
kinds  of  flowers, 
branches  from  the 
be  brought  into  the 
that  all  can  see  these 
among  the  very  earli- 


examine  their  two 
And  I  hope  that 
different  trees  will 
city  schoolroom,  so 
flowers,  which  are 
est    of    the    year. 


3»<C 


M 


THE    GREAT   TREES 

OST  people  seem  surprised  to  learn  that  all  kinds 
of  trees  have  flowers.  In  March  and  April  they 
go  to  the  woods  in  search  of  the  trailing  arbutus,  the 
violet,  the  anemone ;  and  when  they  have  picked  a 
quantity  of  these,  they  come  home  and  say,  "  These  are 
the  only  flowers  we  saw  to-day." 

But  if  they  had  looked  overhead,  up  into  the  trees, 
they  would  have  seen  many  more  ;  for  each  tree  has  its 
own  flower,  and  most  of  the  trees  blossom  very  early  in 

DANA'S    PLANTS. 1 4 


210 


Fig. 


the  year,  before  they  put  out  their  leaves.  There  is  a 
good  reason  for  this,  which  I  will  tell  you  by  and  by. 
One  of  the  early  trees  to  flower  is  the  swamp 
maple.  In  March  or  April  its  bright  red  blossoms 
tinge  the  wet  woods  with  warm  color.  Sometimes 
the  snow  lies  thick  on  the  ground  at  this  season,  and 
the  little  red  flower  clusters  fall,  and  look  wonder- 
fully pretty  against  the  smooth  white  sheet 
which  is  drawn  beneath  the  trees. 
2  At  the  same  season,  in  our  city  parks  and 
streets,  sharp  eyes  will  discover  the  yellowish 
blossoms  of  the  silver  maple.  Both  of  these  trees 
flower  before  they  leaf. 

The  building  plan  used  by  maple  flowers  is 
rather  confusing.  In  one  flower  you  will  find 
both  calyx  and  corolla,  but  not  in   another.      One 

blossom  will  have  both  stamens  and 

pistils,   another  will   have  no  pistils. 

Fig.  202  shows  you  a  blossom  from 

the   sugar   maple.      It    has   stamens,  but  no 

pistils.      Next  you  see  what  was  once  a  flower 

Fig.  204  containing  both  stamens  and  pistils  ( Fig.  203 ) . 

The  withered  stamens  can  still  be  seen  ;    and  the 

pistil  is  turning  into  the  well-known  maple  key. 

The  great  elms  also  put  out  their  flowers  be- 
fore their  leaves.  Here  you  see  a  flower  clus- 
ter from  the  white  elm  (Fig.  204).  Fig.  205 
shows  you  one  of  these  little  flowers  enlarged; 
and  in  Fig.  206  you  have  the  blossom  cut  open 
so  as  to  display  its  pistil,  which  grows  into  the  winged 
fruit  you  saw  on  p.  62. 


Fig.  20 


Fig.  20c 


211 

In  some  of  our  city  streets    grows    the    poplar.     Its 
flowers   are   crowded    into   long   green  tassels.      Many 
of  these   fall    to    the    pavement   below,    and   lie   there, 
looking  like  great  caterpillars.     These  tassels  are 
those  which  bear  the  flowers  with  stamens.     Now, 
if  we  were  in  the  woods,  we  should  be  pretty  sure 
to    find    near    by    another     poplar    whose   tassels 
do  not  fall  so  quickly.     This  is  because  these  are 
made  up  of  flowers  with    pistils.      They  cling  to 
the  tree  not  only  till  they   have  been    powdered 
with  pollen  from  the  neighboring  poplar,  but  till  their 
tiny  seeds  have  had  time  to  ripen  and  are  ready  to  start 
out  on  their  life  journey. 

»o^oo — 

THE   UNSEEN   VISITOR 

I  PROMISED  to  tell  you  why  so  many  of  the  trees 
flower  before  they  leaf. 

Many  of  these  tree  blossoms  are  neither  bright 
enough  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  bees  and  butterflies, 
nor  so  fragrant  as  to  tempt  the  passing  insects  to  visit 
them ;  for  when  the  flower  handkerchiefs  are  not  large 
and  bright  enough  to  signal  the  bees,  the  blossom  often 
gives  notice  of  its  presence  by  a  strong  perfume.  How, 
then,  is  the  pollen  from  one  flower  to  reach  the  pistil  of 
another?  And  especially  how  can  this  be  arranged 
when  the  flowers  with  pollen  may  live  quite  a  way  off  — 
on  another  tree,  in  fact  —  from  the  flowers  with  pistils? 

" Perhaps  the  birds  carry  it,"  suggests  some  child. 


212 

But  if  these  little  flowers  are  not  beautiful  enough,  or 
sweet-smelling  enough,  to  please  the  bees  and  butter- 
flies, it  is  hardly  probable  that  the  birds  will  pay  them 
any  attention. 

So  let  us  go  out  into  the  woods  with  our  eyes  and 
our  ears  wide  open,  and  see  if  we  can  discover  some 
flower  visitor  that  does  not  ask  for  fine  clothes  and 
sweet  smells. 

Through  the  bushes  comes  the  lisp  of  the  song  spar- 
row. From  overhead  falls  the  note  of  the  bluebird. 
The  bees  are  buzzing  about  the  golden  willow  tassels. 
On  the  top  of  an  old  tree  trunk  a  butterfly  is  drowsing 
in  the  sun's  rays.  But  already  we  know  that  neither 
bird,  nor  bee,  nor  butterfly  will  go  out  of  its  way  to  help 
our  pale,  scentless  little  tree  blossoms. 

A  squirrel  darts  from  under  cover,  and  runs  along 
the  stone  wall.  Among  the  dead  leaves  at  our  feet  a 
little  striped  snake  lies  in  a  sluggish  coil.  But  squirrel 
and  snake  would  be  alike  useless  as  flower  visitors. 

We  are  almost  tempted  to  give  up  trying  to  guess  the 
answer  to  the  riddle.  Somewhat  discouraged,  we  stop 
to  rest  on  an  old  log  overgrown  with  delicate  mosses. 

A  soft,  sighing  sound  creeps  through  the  pines  at 
the  foot  of  yonder  hill.  Over  the  little  hollow  sweeps 
a  gust  of  wind.  A  faint  cloud,  as  of  dust,  fills  the  air. 
One  of  the  children  begins  to  sneeze.  Where  can  the 
dust  come  from?  The  roads  are  still  deep  with  mud. 
And,  besides,  ordinary  dust  does  not  make  us  sneeze 
as  though  it  were  pepper. 

Ah,  my  friend,  you  are  getting  warm,  very  warm 
indeed;  for  this  dust  is  no  dried  earth  from  the  high- 


213 

road.  No,  it  is  made  up  instead  of  golden  grains  from 
the  dust  boxes  that  are  swaying  in  the  wind  on  yonder 
trees.  And  as  the  trees  just  now  are  bare  of  leaves, 
the  journey  of  the  pollen  through  the  air  is  an  easy 
matter.  It  is  carried  along  by  the  wind,  settling  here, 
there,  and  everywhere,  sometimes  in  our  throats  and 
noses  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  make  us  sneeze,  but  also 
on  the  tops  of  many  little  pistils  whose  seeds  cannot 
ripen  without  its  gift  of  new  life. 

And  so,  although  we  have  not  seen  the  visitor  who 
befriends  these  little  flowers  that  are  neither  beautiful 
nor  fragrant,  we  have  heard  his  voice  as  it  came  whis- 
pering through  the  pines ;  and  we  know  that  this 
whisper  is  the  gentle  voice  of  the  wind. 

Now  you  understand  that  it  is  well  for  those  trees 
whose  flowers  depend  upon  the  wind  for  their  pollen, 
to  blossom  before  their  leaves  are  out,  and  thus  likely  to 
interfere  with  the  pollen  in  reaching  its  destination. 


214 


PLANT    PACKAGES 

ON  your  walks  through  the  woods  these 
spring  days  I  want  you  to  notice  the 
neat  and  beautiful  way  in  which 
plants  do  their  packing;  for  the 
woods  now  are  full  of  plant 
packages,  —  little  bundles  of 
leaves  and  flowers,  done  up 
with  the  greatest  care. 

Some     of    these     have     just 
appeared     above     the     ground. 
Others    have    burst     from     the 
branches  of  the  trees  and  shrubs. 
Of   course,    a    plant    does 
r-^gfesPk:        n°t   hke  to  send  its  young, 
Fig.  207  delicate  leaves    and    flowers 

into  the  cold  world  without  wrapping  them  up,  any 
more  than  your  mother  would  like  to  send  your  baby 
brother  out  for  the  first  time  without  a  great  deal  of 
just  such  bundling-up. 

And  so  well  wrapped  are  many  of  these  plant  babies, 
that  it  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  guess  just  what  they  are, 
what  kinds  of  leaves  and  flowers  will  appear  when  the 
wrappings  have  been  thrown  aside. 

Sometimes  the  package  looks  like  the  sharp-pointed 
object  in  the  picture  at  the  head  of  this  chapter  (Fig. 
207).  Soon  the  leaves  push  their  way  out  of  their 
papery  envelope,  and  before  long  our  friend  Jack-in-the- 
pulpit  himself  appears. 


215 


Sometimes  it  is  such  a  woolly  roll  as  you  see  in  the 
next    pieture   (Fig.    208).     This  roll  soon  un- 
curls into  a  pretty  fern  (Fig.   209). 

The    beech    tree    folds   its   leaves  like  fans 
(Fig.   210).     The  preceding  picture  (Fig.  211) 
shows    you    how   carefully   and    cleverly    the 
hobblebush  packs   its  young 
leaves. 

During      their      babyhood 
many   leaves    wear    a    hairy 
coat    as    a    protection    from    both 
cold    and    heat ;     but   when    their 
green  skin  becomes  thicker,  they 
throw  this  off. 

Most   of   these  plant    packages 
are  very  interesting  and  beautiful, 

and  well  worth  your  attention.       I  wish  that  during 

these    weeks    of     early    spring    the    country 

schools  would    hold   exhibitions   of   these 

babes    in   the   woods,  asking    each    child        m 

to    bring    what    he    considers   a 

good     specimen      of      a     plant 

package. 


A 


9 


Fig.  2ii 


Fig.  21c 


2l6 


UNDERGROUND  STOREHOUSES 

LONG  ago  we  learned  that  certain  plants  stow  away 
the  food  which  they  are  not  fitted  to  use  at  the 
time  in  those  thick  underground  stems  which  most 
people  call  roots. 

This  food  they  hold  over  till  the  next  year. 

It  is  often  a  surprise,  these  spring  days,  to  see  how 
suddenly  a  little  plant  will  burst  into  blossom.  One 
does  not  understand  how  it  has  had  time  to  get  up  such 
a  display.  Had  it  been  obliged  to  depend  for  food  upon 
new  supplies  taken  in  by  its  roots  and  leaves,  the  flower 
would  have  put  off  its  first  appearance  for  many  a  day. 

So  when  a  plant  surprises  you  with  any  such  sudden 
and  early  blossoms,  you  can  be  pretty  sure  that  its  food 
supply  has  been  on  hand  all  winter. 

Both  in  the  garden  and  in  the  woods  you  can  see  for 
yourselves  that  this  is  so.  In  the  garden  perhaps  the 
earliest  flower  to  appear  is  the  lovely  little  snowdrop. 
The  snowdrop's  food  is  stored  away  in  the  "bulb,"  as 
we  call  its  thick,  underground  stem,  which  lies  buried 
in  the  earth. 

The  other  early  garden  flowers,  such  as  the  hyacinth, 
crocus,  daffodil,  and  tulip,  are  able  to  burst  into  beauti- 
ful blossoms  only  because  of  the  care  and  labor  with 
which  they  laid  by  underground  provisions  last  year. 

And  in  the  woods  at  this  season  you  find  the  yellow 
adder's  tongue,  spring  beauty,  anemone,  wake-robin, 
Jack-in-the-pulpit,  wild  ginger,  and  Solomon's  seal. 
Each  of  these  plants  has  stores  of  food  hidden  in  its 


217 

underground  stem.  This  may  take  the  shape  of  a  bulb, 
or  a  tuber,  or  a  rootstock ;  but  in  any  case  it  shows  you 
at  once  that  it  is  a  little  storehouse  of  food. 

A  collection  of  the  different  kinds  of  underground 
stems  which  serve  as  storehouses  for  the  early-flowering 
plants  would  be  quite  as  interesting  to  work  over  as  a 
collection  of  plant  packages. 


>>«*:< 


DIFFERENT    BUILDING    PLANS 

THIS  morning  let  us  take  a  stroll  in  the  woods  with 
the  idea  of  noticing  the  different  building  plans 
used  by  the  early  flowers. 

First  we  will  go  to  the  spot  where  we  know  the  trail- 
ing arbutus  is  still  in  blossom.  Pick  a  spray,  and  tell 
me  the  plan  of  its  flower. 

"  There  is  a  small  green  cup,  or  calyx,  cut  into  five 
little  points,"  you  say ;  "  and  there  is  a  corolla  made  up 
of  five  flower  leaves." 

But  stop  here  one  moment.  Is  this  corolla  really 
made  up  of  five  separate  flower  leaves  ?  Are  not  the 
flower  leaves  joined  in  a  tube  below  ?  If  this  be  so,  you 
must  say  that  this  corolla  is  five-lobed,  or  five-pointed, 
not  that  it  has  five  flower  leaves. 

"  And  there  are  ten  pins  with  dust  boxes,  or  stamens." 

Yes,  that  is  quite  right. 

"  And  there  is  one  of  those  pins  with  a  seedbox  below, 
one  pistil,  that  is,  but  the  top  of  this  pistil  is  divided 
into  five  parts." 


218 


Well,  then,  the  building  plan  of  the  trailing  arbutus 
runs  as  follows  :  — 
i.    Calyx. 

2.  Corolla. 

3.  Stamens. 

4.  Pistil. 

So  far,  it  seems  the  same  plan  as  that  used  by  the 
cherry  tree,  yet  in  certain  ways  this  plan  really  differs 
from  that  of  the  cherry  blossom.      The  calyx 
of  the  cherry  is  not  cut  into  separate  leaves, 
as  is  that    of    the    arbutus ;     and    its    corolla 
leaves   are   quite    separate,   while   those   of  the 
arbutus  are  joined  in  a  tube. 

The  cherry  blossom  has   more  stamens  than 
Fig.  212      the  arbutus.     Each   flower  has  but  one   pistil. 
But  the  pistil  of  the  arbutus,  unlike  that  of  the  cherry, 
is  five-lobed. 

So,  although  the  general  plan  used  by  these  two 
flowers  is  the  same,  it  differs  in  important  details. 

Above  you  see  the  flower  of  the  marsh  marigold 
(Fig.  212).     Its  building  plan  is  as  follows  :  — 

1.  Flower  leaves. 

2.  Stamens. 

3.  Pistils. 

This,  you  remember,  is  something  like  the  building 
plan  of  the  easter  lily.  The  lily  has  a  circle  of  flower 
leaves  in  place  of  calyx  and  corolla.  So  has  the  marsh 
marigold.  But  the  lily  has  six  flower  leaves,  one  more 
than  the  marsh  marigold,  and  only  six  stamens,  while 
the  marsh  marigold  has  so  many  stamens  that  it  would 
tire  one  to  count  them. 


219 

And  the  lily  has  but  one  pistil  (this  is  tall  and 
slender),  while  the  marsh  marigold  has  many  short, 
thick  ones,  which  you  do  not  see  in  the  picture. 

So  these  two  flowers  use  the  same  building  plan  in  a 
general  way   only.      They   are  quite   unlike  in 
important  details. 

The  pretty  little  liverwort  and  the  delicate 
anemone  use  the  same  building  plan  as  the 
marsh  marigold.  This  is  not  strange,  as  all 
three  flowers  belong  to  the  same  family.  Fig.  : 

.  The  yellow  adder's  tongue  is  another  lily.      It  is  built 
on  the  usual  lily  plan  :  — 

i.    Six  flower  leaves. 

2.  Six  stamens. 

3.  One  pistil. 

The  wild  ginger  (Fig.  213)  uses  the  lily  plan,  inasmuch 
as  it  has  no  separate  calyx  and  corolla ;  but  otherwise  it 
is  quite  different.  It  has  no  separate  flower  leaves,  but 
one  three-pointed  flower  cup.  It  has  stamens,  and  one 
pistil  which  branches  at  its  tip. 

The  next  picture  (Fig.  214)  shows  you  the  seedbox, 
cut  open,  of  the  wild  ginger. 

To  find  this  flower,  your  eyes  must  be  brighter  than 
usual.  It  grows  close  to  the  ground,  and  is  usually 
hidden  from  sight  by  the  pair  of  round,  woolly  leaves 
shooting  up  from  the  underground  stem,  which  tastes 
like  ginger.  This  thick  underground  stem  is  the  store- 
house whose  stock  of  food  makes  it  possible  for  the 
plant  to  flower  and  leaf  so  early  in  the  year. 

Fig.  215  shows  you  the  pretty  wake-robin.  This 
is  a  lily.      But  it  is  unlike  the  lilies  we  already  know,  in 


220 


Fig.  215 


that  its  calyx  and  corolla  are  quite  dis- 
tinct, each  having  three  separate  leaves. 
It  has  six  stamens,  and  one  pistil  with 
three  branches. 

The  general  building  plan  of  the  violet 
(Fig.  216)  is  the  old  one  of  calyx,  corolla, 
stamens,  pistil.     But  the  leaves  of  this  calyx 
(Fig.   217)  are  put  together  in  a  curious,  ir- 
regular fashion ;    and  the    different  leaves  of  the 
corolla    are    not    of    the    same    shape    and    size 
as  in  the  cherry  blossom.      Then  the   five   stamens  of 
the  violet   are   usually  joined   about  the    stalk  of   the 


Fig.  216 


w 

V  ) 

Fig.  217  Fig.  219  Fig.  220  Fig.  21! 

pistil  in  a  way  that  is  quite  confusing,  unless  you  know 
enough  to  pick  them  apart  with  a  pin,  when  they  look 
like  this  picture  you  see  above,  to  the  right  (Fig.  218). 
The    garden   pansy  (Figs.   219, 
220)  is  cousin  to  the  violet.     You 
notice  at  once  that  it  uses  just  the 
same  building  plan. 

The  wild  geranium  (Figs.   221, 
222)    is    put    together    almost    as 
Fig.  221  simply     as     the     cherry    blossom.  fig.  222 


Fig.  223 


221 

A  more  beautiful  flower  than  the  col- 
umbine it  would  be  difficult  to  find  (Fig. 
223).  Its  graceful  hanging  head  and 
brilliant  coloring  make  it  a  delight  to  the 
passer-by. 

It  has  not  the  fragrance  of  some  other 
flowers,  but  for  this  there  is  a  good 
reason. 

The  columbine  is  so  brightly  colored  that  the  nectar- 
hunting  bee  can  see  it  from  a  great  distance. 

It  is  only  when  a  blossom  is  so  small  and  faintly 
colored  as  to  be  unlikely  to  attract  the  eye,  that  it 
needs  to  make  its  presence  known  in  some  other  way 
than  by  wearing  gay  clothes.  By  giving  out  fragrance 
it  notifies  the  bee  that  material  for  honey  making  is  on 
hand. 

So  you  see  that  a  pale  little  flower  with  a  strong 
fragrance  is  just  as  able  to  attract  the  bee's  attention 
as  is  a  big  flower  with  its  bright  flower  handkerchiefs. 
A  big  flower  with  bright  flower  handkerchiefs  does  not 
need  to  attract  the  bee  by  its  perfume. 

Perhaps  you  will  be  somewhat  surprised  to  learn  that 
this  columbine  uses  the  old  plan,  calyx,  corolla,  stamens, 
pistil. 

In  the  columbine  the  calyx  as  well  as  the  corolla  is 
brightly  and  beautifully  colored,  and  only  the  botanist 
can  tell  which  is  which.  In  this  way  many  flowers  con- 
fuse one  who  is  only  beginning  their  study.  So  you 
must  try  to  be  patient  when  you  come  across  a  flower 
whose  coloring  and  shape  make  it  impossible  for  you 
to  say  what  is  calyx  and  what  is  corolla.     You  should 


222 


turn  both  over  into  the  one  division  of   flower  leaves, 
and   when    older    you   may   be    able   to 
master   the  difficulty. 

The    pretty    fringed    polygala    (Fi< 
224)  is  one  of  these  confusing  flower?. 
You    find    it    in    the   May    woods.      Its 
discovery  is   such   a   delight, 
that  one  is  not  apt  to  make 
himself      unhappy      because 
he  cannot    make   out   all    its 
parts. 

The  jewelweed  (Fig.  225), 
the  plant  which  blossoms 
down      by     the      brook      in  Fig.  225 

August,  is  another  of  these  puzzling  blossoms. 


>>&<c 


A   CELEBRATED    FAMILY 


D 


O  you  know  this  pretty 
flower  (Fig.  226)? 
It  is  the  yellow  lady's  slip- 
per. It  lives  deep  in  the 
woods  of  May,  perhaps  part  way  up 
the  mountain  side.  It  has  several  sis- 
ters. One  of  these  is  the  pink  lady's 
slipper,  which  blossoms  just  a  little 
later.  Another  is  the  white  lady's  slip- 
per. This  comes  late  in  June,  and  is  one 
of  the  loveliest  of  our  wild  flowers. 


223 


These  three  sisters  belong  to  a  celebrated  family,  that 
of  the  Orchids. 

The  Orchid  family  is  noted  for  the  beauty  of  its 
flowers,  and  for  the  pains  which  these  take  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  bees. 

The  building  plan  used  by  the  orchids  is  too  difficult 
for  you  to  learn  yet  awhile.  Perhaps  the  orchids  take 
more  trouble  than  any  other  flowers  to  have  their  pistils 
well  dusted  with  pollen.  A  good  landing 
place  for  the  bee  is  provided ;  signs  are 
hung  out  to  point  the  way  to  the  hidden 
nectar ;  and  if  directions 
are  followed,  the  pistil  is 
sure  to  receive  the  wished- 
for  pollen. 

This  picture  (Fig.  227)  shows 
you  an  orchid  which  you  see 
in  the  windows  of  flower  shops 
during  the  winter.  It  comes  to 
us  from  far  South,  not  grow- 
ing out  of  doors  in  our  climate. 

Its  building  plan  would  almost  serve  for  a  wayside 
tavern.  You  can  see  that  the  pocket  would  answer  as 
a  front  doorstep,  making  a  convenient  landing  place 
for  bee  or  butterfly. 

The  dark  spots  on  the  upper  flower  leaf  point  down- 
ward to  the  refreshment  room. 

Even  more  curious  than  this  one  are  other  orchids 
which  grow  in  far-away  places. 

In  their  efforts  to  please,  they  wear  the  most  striking 
colors,  and  take  on  a  variety  of  fantastic  shapes. 


Fig.  227 


224 

One  of  them  dresses  itself  much  like  a  bee.  In  this 
way  perhaps  it  secures  a  visit  from  the  real  bee. 

Another  is  called  the  baby  orchid,  because  in  the 
center  of  each  flower  is  an  object  which  really  looks 
like  a  fairy  baby. 

There  are  some  ten  or  twelve  orchids  which  are  com- 
mon in  our  Northern  woods.  I  hope  you  children  will 
keep  on  the  lookout  for  them  all  summer. 

Just  now  you  could  not  tell  whether  or  not  a  flower 
was  an  orchid.  But  if  you  come  across  a  plant  whose 
flowers  look  as  though  they  were  built  to  serve  as 
wayside  taverns  for  the  bees,  why,  carry  them  to  your 
teacher,  and  ask  her  to  find  out  for  you  whether  they 
belong  to  the  Orchid  family. 

But  it  is  only  fair  to  tell  you  that  some  of  our  orchids 
bear  flowers  so  small  and  insignificant  that  you  would 
hardly  guess  them  to  be  members  of  so  distinguished 
a  family. 


CLEVER    fpp©    CUSTOMS 

N  this  page  you   see    a    picture 
of  the  garden  foxglove. 
The  garden  foxglove  is  an  English 
ild    flower.       It  is   so   striking  and 
autiful  that    it  was  brought  across 
e  sea  to  decorate  our  gardens. 
We  can  guess  that  the  spots  within 
each  bell  are  the  signposts  leading  to 
the  refreshment  room. 

The  yellow  false  foxglove  (Fig. 


wm 


#■ "       ^flp 


3k- 


'*c 


DANA'S   PLANTS. 1 5 


225 


226 


228),  which  grows  wild    in   our  woods  in  midsummer, 
is  a  less  brilliant  flower  than  its  English  cousin,  and 
is  without  the  spots  that  serve  as  signposts. 
^^      Our  wood  and  meadow  lilies  (Figs.  229,  230)  are 
^mi     we^  fitted   to   secure  bee  visitors.      Their  colors 
<8|Mfe      are  brilliant  enough  to  catch  the  eye  of  the  most 
unobserving   of   bees   in   its   voyage    across 
the  meadow,  and  their  spots  vivid  enough  to 
lead  it   at  once  to   the  re- 
freshment room. 

Try  for  yourselves  to  fol- 
low   these    markings    with 
Fig.  228      your   tongue,   and   you   will 
win  the  bee's  reward,  a  sweet  drop  of 
nectar. 

Whenever  you  see  a  flower  with 
such  vivid  markings  as  these,  it  will 
be  worth  your  while  to  play  the  bee, 
and  start  a  honey  hunt. 

Sometimes  the  sweet  drop  lies  at 
the  base  of  the  flower  leaves,  as  in  the  lilies;  some- 
times in  a  pocket,  as  in  many  of  the 
orchids;  sometimes  it  is  in  the  bottom  of 
a  long  spur  such  as  you  see  in  the  colum- 
bine, violet,  and  nasturtium  (Fig.  231). 

Fig.  232  shows  you  the  beautiful  flowers 
of  the  mountain  laurel. 

These  flowers  play  a  clever  trick  on 
their  bee  visitors.  They  wish  to  make  perfectly  sure 
that  their  pollen  will  be  carried  from  one  blossom  to 
another,  and  so  they  set  a  little  trap. 


Fig.  229 


Fig.  230 


227 


In  a  freshly  opened  blossom  each 
stamen  is  bent  over,  as  you  see  they  are 
bent  over  in  the  picture  (Fig.  233). 

Their  dust  boxes  are  caught  in  little 
pockets  of  the  flower  cup.     When  a  bee 
lights  on  a  flower  (Fig.   234),  the  jar  causes 
the    dust   boxes    to  spring   from   the    pockets 
with    so    much    violence    that    the    pollen    is 
shaken  over  the  body  of  the  visiting  bee,  which 

is  sure  to  leave  some  of       IG"  231 
it  on  the  pistil  of  the  next  flower. 
Some  flowers  take   special  care 
to  prevent  their  pistils  from 
being    dusted    with    pollen 
from  the  dust  boxes  of  the 
same  blossom.     The  fireweed 
bears  such  blossoms  as  these. 
In  Fig.  235  you  see  that  the 
stamens   of  the   fireweed  are 
Fig.  232    ]arge  anc[  ripe,  and  ready  to 
shed  their  pollen ;  but  the  pistil  is  bent  sideways,  IG"  233 

pushing  its  closed  tip  quite  out  of  the  corolla,  and  out 
of  reach  of  any  pollen  from  a  neighboring 
stamen. 

Fig.  236  shows  you  another  blossom  from 


Fig.  234 


Fig.  235 


Fig.  236 


228 


this  same  plant.  The  stamens  have  shed  their  pollen, 
and  are  quite  dry  and  withered ;  but  its  pistil  has 
straightened  itself,  and  spreads  out  its 
four  tips  so  as  to  receive  the  pollen  from 

another  flower. 
Jgr       It  is  believed  that  those  seeds  which 
are  touched  with  life   by  pollen   from 
another    flower    are    more    likely    to 
change  into   healthy,  hardy  plants 
than  those  which  are  quickened  by 
the  pollen  of  their  own  flower. 
Such  of  you  as  live  near  the  sea 
know   the  lovely  sea  pinks  (Fig.  237), 
which  make    a  rosy  carpet   across    the 
salt   meadows    early    in    August.      The 
stamens  and  pistils  of  this  sea  pink  act  in  the  same  way. 


Fig.  237 


3>©4C 


FLOWERS  THAT  TURN  NIGHT  INTO  DAY 


ALREADY  we  have  read  that  certain  flowers  attract 
insects  rather  by  their  fragrance  than  by  their 
brilliancy  of  coloring. 

It   is   interesting   to   learn  that   some  blossoms  open 


229 


usually  only  during  the  night.  Of  course,  if  these 
flowers  hope  to  receive  visitors,  and  get  their  share  of 
pollen,  they  must  devise  some  means  of  making  known 
their  presence  to  those  insects  which  are  awake  and  at 
work  in  the  darkness. 

You  can  understand  that  at  night  the  brightest  colors 
would    be    useless.      A   red   flower  is  less  easily        -^ 
seen  in  the  darkness  than  a  white  or  a    sS~\ 
yellow  one  ;    so  night-opening  flow-       (^  f' 


ers  nearly  always  wear  a  white  or       X^'^'^v      ^ 
yellow  dress.  vT5^^^l!fe 

And    not    only   this:    to    make 
sure  that  they  will  not  be  overlooked,  and  so 
miss  the  chance  of  ripening  their  seeds,  they 
send   out  a  strong   fragrance   as    soon   as   the     <?• 
night   falls.      Through  the  deepest  gloom  this     k 
message    of    invitation    reaches    the  wandering     (j 
moth.  % 

Do  you  know  the  evening  primrose     "^^S^i 
(Fig.  238)?     There  ought  to  be  nc  need  ^ 

of  asking  you  this,  for  it  is  one  of  our  com- 
monest wayside  plants.  But  perhaps  you  have 
hardly  noticed  it,  because  ordinarily  only  at 
night  is  its  flower  wide  awake.  FlG-  238 

When  the  sun  has  set,  this  pale  yellow  blossom  un- 
folds, and  gives  out  a  strong,  sweet  fragrance,  which 
means  that  it  is  "at  home"  to  visitors. 

After  one  short   summer  night  it  dies. 

But  during  its  little  life  the  chances  are  that  its  invi- 
tation has  been  accepted  by  the  pretty  pink  moth  which 
oftentimes  you  find  asleep  in  the  faded  flower  cup. 


230 

The  moth  visitor  has  brought  its  hostess  the  pollen 
from  another  blossom,  and  has  powdered  the  pistil's 
four  spreading  tips,  so  that  the  little  primrose  seeds 
below  get  the  needed  touch  of  life,  and  the  short  life 
of  the  flower  has  not  been  in  vain. 

If  you  keep  on  the  lookout,  you  are  likely  to  come 
across  one  of  these  yellow  flowers  with  the  sleepy  pink 
moth  inside  its  cup.  I  have  caught  this  little  fellow 
napping  so  often,  that  I  have  wondered  if  the  nectar  of 
the  evening  primrose  might  not  have  the  effect  of  a 
sleeping  potion.  But  after  all,  I  suppose  that  pretty 
pink  moths,  like  boys  and  girls,  are  likely  to  be  dull 
and  sleepy  in  the  daytime  if  they  have  been  up  too  late 
the  night  before. 

HORRID    HABITS 

DID  you  ever  know  that  some  plants  manage  to 
attract  insects  in  ways  that  are  quite  disgusting 
to  us  human  beings  ? 

While  spending  a  morning  in  the  woods,  some  of  you 
may  have  noticed  an  odor  so  unpleasant  that  you  were 
driven  to  find  another  resting  place. 

Perhaps  you  thought  that  this  unpleasant  smell  was 
caused  by  the  decaying  body  of  some  dead  animal ;  but 
had  you  known  the  truth,  you  would  have  laid  the 
blame  where  it  rightly  belonged. 

And  where  was  that,  do  you  think  ? 

Why,  to  that  beautiful  climbing  plant  close  by,  with 
large,    thick    leaves,    and    clusters    of    pale,    greenish 


231 

flowers,  that  were  twisting  all  about  the  bushes.  This 
plant  it  was  that  caused  all  the  disturbance.  It  is 
called  the  "  carrion  vine  "  on  account  of  the  carrionlike 
odor  of  its  flowers.  Its  pollen  is  carried  from  one  little 
blossom  to  another  by  tiny  flies,  drawn  to  the  spot  by 
a  smell  like  that  of  decaying  flesh.  These  flies  would 
pass  carelessly  over  the  sweet-smelling  carpet  of  the 
partridge  vine,  they  would  scorn  the  invitation  of  the 
evening  primrose ;  but  the  odor  which  drives  us  hur- 
riedly from  our  cozy  corner  induces  them  to  gather 
together  in  hundreds.  Whether  they  come,  actually 
expecting  to  find  decaying  flesh,  I  cannot  say. 

In  some  countries  grows  a  plant  which  not  only 
smells  like  decaying  flesh,  but  which  adds  to  the  decep- 
tion by  its  red,  beefy  look,  thus  doubly  attracting  the 
flies  which  like  this  sort  of  food. 


232 


THE   STORY   OF   THE    STRAWBERRY 


if 


%i 


N  the  wood  which 
edges  the  meadow 
is  a  hollow  where 
it  is  almost  sure 
to  be   cool    and 
shady.      Let  us 
find     our     way 
there  this  morn- 
ing, and  see  how  we  can 
f  amuse  ourselves. 

At  first  we  want  only 
to  enjoy  the  wind  which 
is  coming  through  the  trees,  or  to 
lie  back  on  the  grass  and  spy  out 
which  is  singing  overhead,  or  else 
at  the  red  squirrel  which  is  scold- 
ing away  at  a  great  rate  just  above  us. 

Suddenly  our  eyes  fall  on  a  cluster  of  ripe,  shining 
wild  strawberries.  Bird  and  squirrel  are  forgotten,  for 
no  fruit  of  all  the  year  is  prettier  to  look  at  than  the 
wild  strawberry ;  and,  what  is  more  important,  no  other 
fruit  has  such  a  delicious  flavor  of  the  woods  and  fields. 
Soon  we  have  eaten  all  the  berries  within  reach. 
The  creeping  vines  lead  us  out  into  the  meadow,  where 
we  push  aside  the  long  grasses  and  pick  one  ripe 
mouthful  after  another.  At  last  we  are  satisfied  to  go 
back  to  our  shady  nook. 


233 


Fig.  242 


The  little  white 
blossoms  that  a 
few  weeks  ago 
were  so  plentiful 
have  nearly  all 
disappeared. 
Who     among 

you  can  tell  me  FlG-  2^  FlG-  2*° 

how   these   juicy  berries    have   managed 
to  take  the  place  of  the  blossoms  ? 

Why,  ever  so  many  of  you  can  tell  me 
much  of  the  story,   at   any  rate.      It  is 
very  nearly  that  of  the  apple  and  cherry 
and  plum  and   pear.     The  nectar-hunting  bee 
carried  the  pollen    of  its  many  stamens    from 
one    strawberry   blossom    to    another,    leaving 
some  of  it  on  the  flat  tips  of  its  numerous  pis- 
tils.    Down  the  pistils'  stalks  went  the  tiny  life 
bearing  tubes  which  pushed  their  way  into  the 
little  seeds  below. 

So  far,  the  story  of  the  strawberry  is  not  new 
to  us ;  but  just  here  it  begins  to  differ  from 
the  stories  of  the  apple  and  pear,  of  the  plum 
and  peach  and  cherry.  The  flowers  of  all  these 
trees  had  but  one  seedbox.  But  each  of  the 
many  little  strawberry  pistils  has  a  separate 
seedbox;  and  when  the  little  seeds  within  get 
their  touch  of  new  life,  the  flat,  cushionlike 
object  (Fig.  241)  which  bears  these  many  pistils 
begins  to  act  in  a  most  surprising  manner. 

This  flat  flower  cushion  swells  upward  and  outward 


Ftg.  241 


Fig.  243 


Fig.  244 


234 

(Fig.  242),  growing  big  and  juicy  and  sweet,  bearing 
its  pistils  (Fig.  243)  with  it. 

And  so  in  the  strawberry  blossom  it  is  the  flat  cushion 
hidden  out  of  sight  which  grows  into  the  delicious  fruit. 


JKKti 


W§j^ 


A   COUSIN    ^ID^    OF 
THE  STRAWBERRY 

HE  strawberry  is  a  mem- 
ber   cf   the    great    Rose 
family.       Among      its      many 
^tj    cousins  we  find  the  blackberry 
y|?    and  the  raspberry. 

The      blackberry      blossom 
(Fig.  245)  also  has  five  white 
leaves,  and  a  center  made  up 
of  pistils  and  stamens. 

\\  •'"  *  When    its    white  flower 

JVNCXa 

s^-^H   leaves  fall,  and  its  empty 

dust  boxes  wither,  we  see  the 

blackberry    begin   to   take  the 

place  of   the  blossom,  just   as 

we  saw  the  strawberry  take  the 

place  of  the  strawberry  blossom 

P\     (Fig.  246). 

But    now    we   are    about   to 

discover  the  way  in  which  the 

blackberry    differs     from    the 

strawberry. 

235 


236 

Cannot  some  boy  or  girl  tell  me  in  what  way  they  are 
different  ? 

"  One  is  black,  and  the  other  is  red." 

But  that  is  not  the  answer  I   want.     Perhaps  it   is 

hardly  likely  that  any  child  could  guess  what  I  have  in 

mind.     Still  a  little  exercise  in  guessing  is 

as  good  for  your  brains  as  gymnastics  are 

good  for  your  bodies. 

Now  I  will  tell  you  what  this  difference 
is ;  and  I  want  you  to  try  and  understand 
it  clearly,  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  ex- 
plain it  to  others,  for  I  doubt  if  the  grown-. 
*  24->  up  people  could  give  any  better  answers 

than  you.  I  think  your  fathers  and  mothers  will  be 
both  surprised  and  pleased  when  you  show  them  some 
summer  day  how  truly  different  are  these  two  berries. 
You  remember  that  in  the  strawberry  we  saw  plainly 
that  it  was  the  flat  flower  cushion  which  swelled  into 
the  ripe  strawberry,  —  the  cushion  which  was  quite 
hidden  by  the  many  pistils ;  and  though  these  pistils 
were  scattered  thickly  all  over  the  ripe,  red  fruit,  these 
little  pistils  with  their  seedboxes  were  too  small  j^ 
and  dry  to  add  flavor  or  richness  to  the  berry. 

But  if  we  watch  the  growth  of  this  blackberry, 
we  see  that  things  are  different. 

We  see  that  the  pistils  of  this  fruit  do  not  remain  Fig.  246 
small  and  dry,  as  with  the  strawberry.  No,  indeed! 
their  little  seedboxes  grow  bigger  and  juicier  every  day, 
and  they  turn  from  green  to  red  and  from  red  to  black. 
They  do  not  remain  hard  to  the  touch,  but  become  so 
soft  that  a  slight   pressure  will  bruise  them  and  stain 


237 


your  fingers   purple.      And  we   enjoy   eating  the   full- 
grown   blackberry   (Fig.    249)   because    a    quantity    of 
these  juicy   seedboxes   are   so   packed   upon   the   juicy 
flower  cushion  that  together  they  make 
a  delicious  mouthful  (Figs.  247,  248). 
The  flower  cushion  of  the  blackberry 


Fig.  247 


Fig.  248 


Fig.  249 


is  long  and  narrow,  not  broad  and  flat  like  that  of  the 
strawberry. 

So  do  not  forget  that  in  the  strawberry  we  enjoy 
eating  the  ripened  flower  cushion,  while  in  the  black- 
berry the  juicy  seedboxes  give  to  the  fruit  more  of  its 
size  and  flavor  than  does  the  flower  cushion. 


iff 


238 


ANOTHER    COUSIN 

ERE  we   see   a  branch  from 

the  raspberry  bush  (Fig.  250). 

How  is  the  raspberry  unlike 

both     strawberry     and 

blackberry?     Let  us 

place  side  by   side  these 

three  berries  (Figs.   251, 

252,  253). 

Once    more  we  observe  that 

the  strawberry  is  the  flat  flower 

cushion    grown   big   and   juicy. 

Again  we  see  that  the  seed- 


boxes  of  the  blackberry  packed  upon  the  swollen  flower 
cushion  make  up  much  of  the  fruit. 

But  in  the  raspberry  we  find  that  the  red,  ripe  seed- 
boxes  alone  make  the  berry  which  is  so  good  to  eat. 


Fig.  251 


Fig.  252 


Fig.  253 


When  we  pick  this  raspberry,  we  find  that  the  flower 
cushion  remains  upon  the  plant,  instead  of  coming  off 


Fig.  254 


239 

in  our  fingers  and  helping  to  make  a  luscious 
morsel,  as  with  the  other  two  fruits  (Figs.  254, 

255)- 

I  hope  you  will  remember  how  these  three 
berries  differ  one  from  another. 

Why  the  blossoms  of  these  three 
plants  grow  into  berries  in  three 
different  ways,  we  do  not  know ;  but 
our  time  has  been  well  spent  if  we 
remember  that  they  do  change  in  these  three 
ways. 

The  more  we  see  and  question  and  learn,  the  more 
pleasure  we  shall  find  in  our  own  lives,  and  the  better 
able  we  shall  be  to  make  life  pleasant  for  others, 


Fig.  255 


PEA   BLOSSOMS 
AND    PEAS 

HE    Pea   family  is    a 

large  one,  and  it  is 

our  while  to  find  out  what 

uses    in    flower    building. 

Let   us   look  at  a   pea  blossom 

L    and  see  of  what  parts  it  is  made  up. 

;;;J       "There    is    the    green    cup,    or 

&   calyx,"  you  say. 

Yes,  that  is  plain  enough.     It  is 
cut  up  into  five  little  leaves. 
"And    there   is    a   circle  of    flower 
leaves,  which  makes  the  corolla." 
^\         Let  us  pull  apart  both  calyx 
V.;\  and  corolla,  and  place  the  sepa- 
- -J-   rate    leaves    as    in    the    picture 
(Fig.  256). 

The  five  smaller  leaves,  the  ones 
marked     ca, 
are  the  green 
of  the  calyx. 


240 


241 


The  five  larger  ones,  marked  co,  belong  to  the  corolla. 
These,  you  notice,  are  not  all  alike.  The  upper  one  is 
much  the  largest. 

The  two  side  ones  are  alike. 

In  the  real  flower  the  two  lower  ones  are  joined  so  as 
to  form  a  little  pocket. 

And  what  else  do  you 
find? 

Now,  if  you  do  not 
pull  apart  the  pea  blos- 
som, you  find  nothing 
else.  But  you  know  that 
the  seed-holding  fruit  is 
the  object  of  the  flower's 
life,  and  that  so  this 
flower  is  pretty  sure  to 
have  somewhere  either  a 
pistil  with  its  seedbox,  or 
stamens  with   their    dust 


Fig.  256 


boxes,  or  both;  for  without  the  seeds  of  the  seedbox, 
and  the  pollen  of  the  dust  boxes,  no  fruit  can  result. 
So,  knowing  that  the  pea  blossom  cannot 
give  birth  to  a  pea  pod  without  stamens  and 
pistil,  let  us  have  a  search  for  these. 

As   I  told  you,  the  two  lower  leaves  of  the 

corolla  are  joined  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  pocket 

(Fig.  257).     Now,  surely,  a  pocket  is  meant  to 

hold  something.      So  take  a  pin  and   slit   open 

this  pocket.     As  the  two  sides  spring  apart,  out 

flies  some  golden  pollen,  and  we  see  that  the  little  pocket 

is  far  from  empty.      It  holds  ten  stamens  and  one  pistil. 

dana's  plants.  — 16 


Fig.  257 


242 


If  you  look  at  these  carefully  (Fig.  256),  you  see 
that  one  stamen  stands  alone,  while  the  other  nine  have 
grown  together,  forming  a  tube  which  is  slit  down  one 
side.     This  tube  clings  to  the  lower  part  of  the  pistil. 

Now,  if  you  pull  this  tube  away,  what  do  you 
see  ? 

You  see  a  little,  green,  oblong  object,  do  you  not 
(Fig.   258)? 

And  what  is  it  ?     Do  you  not  recognize  it  ? 

Why,  it  is  a  baby  pea  pod.  Within  it  lie  the  tiny 
green  seeds  (Fig.  259)  which  are  only  waiting  for  the 
Fig.  258  fresh  touch  of  life  from  a  pollen  grain  to  grow  bigger 
and  bigger  till  they  become  the  full-grown  seeds  of  the 
pea  plant,  —  the  peas  that  we  find  so  good  to 
eat  when  they  are  cooked  for  dinner. 

So,  after  all,  the  building  plan  of  the 
pea  blossom  is  nothing  but  the  old-fash- 
ioned one  which  reads 

1.  Calyx. 

2.  Corolla. 

3.  Stamens. 

4.  Pistil. 

Had  I  not  told  you  to  do  so,  I  won- 
der if  you  would  have  been  bright 
enough  to  pull  apart  the  little  pocket 
and  discover  the  stamens  and  pistil. 

What  do  you  think  about  this  ? 


Fig.  259 


243 


THE    CLOVER'S    TRICK 


HERE  you  see  the  bees  buzzing  about  the  pretty 
pink  clover  heads,  —  the  sweet-smelling  clover  that 
grows  so  thickly  in  the  fields  of  early  summer. 

Can  you  tell  me  what  plan  the  clover  uses  in  flower 
building  ? 

You  will  not  find  this  easy  to  do.  Indeed,  it  is  hardly 
possible,  for  the  clover  plays  you  a  trick  which  you  will 
not  be  able  to  discover  without  help. 

You  believe,  do  you  not,  that  you  are  looking  at  a 
single  flower  when  you  look  at  a  clover  head  ? 

Well,  you  are  doing  nothing  of  the  sort.  You  are 
looking  at  a  great  many  little  clover  flowers  which  are 
so  closely  packed  that  they  make  the  pink,  sweet- 
scented  ball  which  we  have  been  taught  to  call  the 
clover  blossom. 

It  is  incorrect  to  speak  of  so  many  flowers  as  one; 
and  whenever  we  say,  "This  is  a  clover  blossom,"  really 
we  ought  to  say,  "These  are  clover  blossoms."  We 
might  just  as  well  take  a  lock  of  hair — a  lock  made  up 
of  ever  so  many  hairs —  and  say,  "This  is  a  hair."     Now, 


244 


Fig.  260 


you  all  know  it  would  not  be  correct  to  do  this,  and  no 
more  is  it  correct  to  call  a  bunch  of  clover  blossoms 
"a  blossom."  But  as  most  people  do  not  understand 
this,  undoubtedly  the  mistake  will  continue  to  be  made. 

Fig.  260  shows  you  one  little  flower  taken  out  of 
the  ball-like  clover  head. 

Can  you  think  of  any  good  reason  why  so  many  of 

these    little    flowers   should   be   crowded  together  in 

a   head  ? 

What  would  happen  if   each   little  blossom  grew 

quite  alone  ? 

Why,   it    would  look  so  small  that  the  bee  could 

hardly  see  it.     And  sweetly  though  the  whole  clover 

head  smells,  the  fragrance  of  a  single  flower  would 
be  so  slight  that  it  would  hardly  serve  as  an  invitation 
to  step   in  for  refreshments. 

So  it  would  seem  that  the  clover  plant  does  wisely 
in  making  one  good-sized  bunch  out  of  many  tiny 
flowers,  for  in  this  way  the  bees  are  persuaded  to  carry 
their  pollen  from  one  blossom  to  another. 

The  moral  of  the  clover  story  is  this :  Be  very  care- 
ful before  you  insist  that  you  hold  in  your  hand  or  see 
in  the  picture  only  one  flower. 


>^< 


MORE   TRICKS 

CAN   you   think   of   any  other  flowers  that  deceive 
us  as  the  clover  does  ? 
Early  in  May  we  see  in  the  woods  a  tree  that  is  very 
beautiful.      It   is   covered  with  what   seem  to  be  white 


245 


for  in- 


blossoms.  This  tree  is  the  flowering  dogwood,  and  it 
tricks  us  somewhat  in  the  same  way  as  does  the  clover ; 
for  in  this  picture  (Fig.  261)  you  see  what  nearly  every 
one  believes  to  be  a  single  flower  of  the  dogwood. 
And  if  some  time  ago  you  had  been  asked  to  give  the 
building  plan  of  the  dogwood  flower,  you  would  have 
been  pretty  sure  to  say  that  the  four  large  white  leaves 
formed  its  corolla. 

Here  you  would   have  been  quite  mistaken 
stead    of    one    large    flower,    the    pic- 
ture   shows    you    a    number    of     tiny 
blossoms,    so   closely   packed,   and    so    If 
surrounded  by  the  four  white  leaves, 
that  they  look  like  only  one  blossom. 

Try  to  get  a  branch  from  the  dog- 
wood tree  (only  be  sure  to  break  it 
off  where  it  will  not  be  missed),  and 
pull  apart  what  looks  so  much  like  one  large  flower. 

First  pull  off  the  four  white  leaves.  Then  you  will 
have  left  a  bunch  of  tiny  greenish  blossoms.  Look  at 
one  of  these  through  a  magnifying  glass.  If  eyes  and 
glass  are  both  good,  you  will  see  a  very  small  calyx, 
a  corolla  made  up  of  four  little  flower  leaves,  four  mites 
of  stamens,  and  a  tiny  pistil, — a  perfect  little  flower 
where  you  never  would  have  guessed  it. 

But  all  by  themselves  they  would  never  be  noticed  : 
so  a  number  of  them  club  together,  surrounding  them- 
selves with  the  showy  leaves  which  light  up  our  spring 
woods. 

In  Fig.  262  you  see  the  flower  cluster  of  the  hobble- 
bush. 


246 


The  hobblebush  has  still  another  way  of  attracting 
attention  to  its  blossoms.  It  surrounds  a  cluster  of 
those  flowers  which  have  stamens 
and  pistils,  and  so  are  ready  to 
do  their  proper  work  in  the  world, 
.  with  a  few  large  blossoms 
which  have  neither  stamens 
nor  pistils,  but  which  are  made 
up  chiefly  of  a  showy  white 
corolla.  These  striking  blossoms 
serve  to  call  attention  to  their 
smaller  but  more  useful  sisters. 
Sometimes  a  whole  plant 
family  will  play  this  trick  of 
putting  a  quantity 
of  flowers  in  one  bunch  or 
cluster. 
The  wild  carrot  (Fig.  263)  is  one  of  our 
commonest  wayside  weeds,  a  torment  to 
the  farmer,  but  a  beautiful  plant 
nevertheless.  Each  one  of  its  lace- 
like flower  clusters  is  made  up  of 
many  flowers,  —  flowers  which  are  too 
small  to  live  alone,  and  so  have  decided 
to  keep  house  together. 

You   will    notice    that    here,    as    witl 
hobblebush,  the  outer  flowers  are  large: 
more  showy  than  the  inner  ones.     They  seem 
to  feel  that  with  them* rests  the  reputation  of 
the  family;  that  they  must  make  the  most  of  themselves, 
and  do  all  in  their  power  to  attract  the  bees  and  butterflies. 


Fig.  262 


Fig.  263 


247 

The  wild  carrot  belongs  to  the  Parsley  family.  All 
the  members  of  this  family  collect  a  great  many  little 
flowers  into  one  fairly  large  cluster. 


:>>*:< 


AN    OLD    FRIEND 


THERE  is  one  plant  (Fig.  264)  which  you  city  chil- 
dren ought  to  know  almost  as  well  as  the  country 
children.  In  the  back  yards  and  in  the 
little  squares  of  grass  which  front  the 
street,  it  sends  up  its  shining  stars  ;  and  as 
for  the  parks,  they  look  as  if  some  gen- 
erous fairy  had  scattered  gold  coins  all 
over  their  green   lawns. 

Now,  what  is  this  flower  which  is  not  too  shy  to  bring 
its  brightness  and  beauty  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
crowded  city  ? 

It  is  the  dandelion,  of  course.  You  all  know,  or 
ought  to  know,  this  plucky  little  plant,  which  holds  up 
its  smiling  face  wherever  it  gets  a  chance. 

And  now,  I  am  sure,  you  will  be  surprised  to  learn 
that  this  dandelion,  which  you  have  known  and  played 
with  all  your  lives,  is  among  those  mischievous  flowers 
which  are  laughing  at  you  in  their  sleeves,  and  that 
regularly  it  has  played  you  its  "April  fool;"  for,  like 
the  dogwood  and  the  clover,  this  so-called  dandelion  is 
not  a  single  flower. 

No,  what  you  call  a  dandelion  is  a  bunch  made  up  of 
a  great  many  tiny  blossoms. 


248 

If  you  pull  to  pieces  a  dandelion  head,  you  will  find 
a  quantity  of  little  yellow  straps.  Each  little  strap  is  a 
perfect  flower. 

Now,  if  you  had  been  asked  for  the  building  plan  of 
the  dandelion,  you  would  have  looked  for  the  calyx,  and 
you  would  have  thought  you  had  found  it  in  the  green 
cup  which  holds  the  yellow  straps. 

And  when  you  were  looking  for  the  corolla,  perhaps 
you  would  have  said,  "Well,  all  these  yellow  things 
must  be  the  flower  leaves  of  the  corolla." 

But  when  you  began  your  hunt  for  stamens  and 
pistils,  you  would  have  been  badly  puzzled;  and  no 
wonder,  for  these  are  hidden  away  inside  the  yellow 
straps,  the  tiny  flowers  of  the  dandelion. 

So  remember  that  when  you  cannot  find  the  stamens 
and  pistils  within  what  you  take  to  be  the  single  flower, 
you  will  do  well  to  stop  and  ask  yourself,  "  Can  this  be 
one  of  the  plants  which  plays  tricks,  and  puts  a  lot  of 
little  flowers  together  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  us  think 
that  they  are  one  big  flower  ?  " 


D^C 


THE    LARGEST    PLANT    FAMILY   IN 
THE   WORLD 

THE  dandelion  belongs  to  the  largest  plant  family  in 
the  world.  All  the  members  of  this  family  have 
the  dandelion  trick  of  bunching  together  a  quantity  of 
little  flowers.  From  this  habit  the  family  takes  its 
name.     It  is  called  the  "  Composite  "  family,  because  with 


249 

it,  that  which  looks  like  one  flower  is  composed  of  many 
flowers. 

To  this  great  family  belong  some  of  the  flowers  which 
you  know  best ;  and  if  you  are  not  to  be  fooled  again 
and  again,  you  must  learn  to  tell  by  its  blossoms  whether 
a  plant  is  a  member  of  the  Composite  family.  This 
will  not  be  difficult  if  you  will  be  patient,  and  pull  to 
pieces  a  few  of  the  flower  heads  which  I  am  going  to 
describe,  and  examine  carefully  the 
building  plan  used  by  the  separate 
flowers. 

Fig.    265   shows  you  the  field   daisy. 
This  pretty  flower  is  an  old  friend  ;  and 
many  of  you  know  that  its  beauty  is  no  com- 
fort to  the  farmer,  who  finds  it  a  sign  of  poor  soil 
and  a  nuisance,  and  does  his  best  to  get  rid  of  it. 

As  you  know,  the  central  part  of  the  daisy  is 
bright  yellow,  and  the  narrow  leaves  which  stand       FlG-  265 
out  in  a  circle  around  its  yellow  center  are  pure  white. 

Now,  if  I  had  asked  you  some  time  ago  for  the  build- 
ing plan  of  the  daisy,  I  think  you  would  have  told  me 
that  the  arrangement  of  little  green  leaves  underneath 
the  flower  head  made  up  the  calyx,  and  naturally  you 
would  have  believed  the  white  leaves  above  to  have 
formed  the  corolla ;  and  the  chances  are  that  the  yellow 
center  would  have  seemed  to  be  a  quantity  of  stamens. 
As  for  the  seed  holders,  you  might  have  said,  "  Oh, 
well !  I  suppose  they  are  hidden  away  somewhere 
among  all  these  stamens." 

It  would  not  have  been  at  all  strange  or  stupid  if  you 
had  answered  my  question  in  this  wav. 


250 


I  know  of  no  plant  which  dresses  up  its  flowers  more 

cleverly,  and  cheats  the  public  more  successfully,  than 

this  innocent-looking  daisy  ;  for  not  only  does  it  deceive 

boys  and  girls,  but  many  of  the 

grown-up      people     who     love 

flowers,    and   who    think    they 

know    something    about    them, 

never  guess  how  they  have  been  fooled 

the   daisy.      Indeed,   some   of    them 

Fig.  266     will  hardly  believe  you  when   you    tell 

them   that   when  they    pick    what   they    call    a    daisy, 

they   pick    not    one,  but   a    great    many    flowers;    and 

they   are   still   more    surprised   when    they   learn    that 

not  only  the  yellow  center  of  the  daisy  is  composed  of  a 

quantity  of  little  tube-shaped  blossoms,  but  that  what 

they  take  to  be  a  circle  of  narrow  white  flower  leaves  is 

really  a   circle    of   flowers,  each   white   strap  being  a 

separate  blossom. 

I  dare  not  try  to  tell  you  how  many  separate  blos- 
soms you  would  find  if  you  picked  to  pieces  a  daisy  and 
counted  all  its  flowers,  —  all  the  yellow  ones  in  the 
center,  and  all  the  white  outside  ones,  —  but  you  would 
find  a  surprisingly  large  number. 

The  picture  above  (Fig.  266)  shows  you  a  daisy  cut  in 
two,  and  next  you  have  one  of  the  white  outer  flowers 
(Fig.  267).  This  flower,  as  we  must  call  it,  has  a  pistil, 
but  no  stamens.  The  pollen  is  brought  by  flies  from 
the  yellow  central  flowers  to  this  pistil. 

Here  (Fig.  268)  you  see  a  picture  of  one  of  those 

vellow  flowers  which  have  both  stamens  and  pistil  inside 
iG.268-7  r 

its  tube. 


1 


251 

If  you  children  once  make  yourselves  well  acquainted 
with  the  make-up  of  the  daisy,  seeing  with  your  own 
bright  eyes  (not  believing  it  just  because  I  tell  you  it  is 
so)  that  there  are  many  little  flowers  where  most  people 
think  they  see  only  one  big  one,  you  will  never  forget 
it  as  long  as  you  live  ;  and  you  will  know  something 
that  many  of  the  big  people  about  you  do  not  know. 
Some  day  while  walking  across  the  fields  I  think  you  will 
enjoy  surprising  them  by  pulling  to  pieces  a  daisy,  and 
explaining  to  them  this  favorite  flower  trick. 


>>©<C 


ROBIN'S    PLANTAIN,    GOLDEN-ROD, 
AND    ASTER 


ALONG  the  roadsides,  in  the  month  of  May,  grows  a 
l  flower  which  you  children  call  a  blue  daisy.  This 
has  the  yellow  center  of  the 
field  daisy;  but  the  narrow 
outer  flowers  which  sur- 
round the  yellow  center  are 
not  white,  they  are  blue. 

The  real  name  of  this 
flower  is  "robin's  plantain." 
It  is  not  a  daisy,  though  it 
belongs  to  the  same  big 
family.  Here,  too,  the  yellow  center  is 
made  up  of  many  little  tube-shaped  flowers. 

Later  in  the  year  the  fields  are  white  and      FlG'  2  9 
purple  with  beautiful  asters  (Fig.   269).      It  is  easy  to 


252 

see  that  these  asters  are 
own    cousins     to    robin's 
plantain.     Their    flower   heads 
are  put   together  in   the   same 
way,  and  many  of  the  asters  wear 
the    same    blue    or   purple   dress 
(Fig.  269). 

When  once  you  have  be-      $M 
come    acquainted  with  the    *4 
secret     of    dandelion     and 
daisy    and   aster    and    robin's    plantain,    ^ 
you  will   find  it  quite  easy  to  dis-       ^Jfef 

cover    their    little    separate     JSgfSjg 

flowers.      All 


have 


large, 


ei¥| 


these    plants  -^tir?%V 
plain     flower 


take. 


of  this   great 


Fig.  271 


Fig.  272 


heads  that  you  cannot  mis 
But  with  some    members   \® 

Composite  family  you  are  going   %         to  have  more 

trouble,  unless  you  take  your  time  and  keep  your 
wits   about  you. 

Just  when  the  asters  begin  to  border  the  roadsides  in 
the  month  of  August,  the  golden-rod  (Fig.  270)  hangs 
out  its  bright  yellow  flowers.  This  golden-rod  is  one  of 
the  plants  which  you  may  find  a  little  troublesome  ;  for 
its  little  flowers  are  so  tiny,  that  even  when  a  number 
of  them  are  fastened  together  in  a  bunch,  the  whole 
bunch  looks  like  a  very  small  blossom  (Fig.  271). 

In  each  of  these  little  bunches  or  heads  (for  when  a 
number  of  flowers  are  packed  together  in  this  way,  we 
call  the  whole  bunch  a  "head  ")  there  are  a  few  of  the 
strap  flowers  (Fig.  272)  on  the  outside,  and  a  few  tube 


-753 

flowers  (Fig.  27^)  in  the  center;  but  the  outer  strap 
flowers  are  so  small  that  you  can  hardly  believe  they 
are  really  flowers,  and  the  tube  flowers  look  hardly 
larger  than  ordinary  stamens.  To  see  them  at  all 
clearly,  you  must  use  a  good  magnifying  glass. 

And  you  must  search  very  patiently  for  the  tiny 
bunch  (Fig.  271)  which  is  the  head  of  the  golden-rod. 
Next  you  must  pick  to  pieces  this  little  head,  separating 
the  outer  from  the  inner  flowers. 

In  hunting  for  a  single  head  in  this  great  yellow 
flower  cluster,  you  must  look  for  the  little  cup-like 
arrangement,  the  tiny  greenish  or  yellowish  leaves;  for 
each  head  is  held  in  one  of  these  small  cups.  FlG-  273 

Although  the  golden-rod  is  one  of  the  most  difficult 
of  all  the  flowers  to  understand,  once  you  have  seen  for 
yourselves  how  each  little  head  is  held  in  its  tiny  cup, 
you  will  find  it  easy  enough  to  pick  out  its  single 
flowers,  and  then  you  will  have  mastered  the  secret  of 
the  golden-rod. 


ft 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  FLOWERS 

WE  found,  you  remember, 
that  the  dandelion  head 
was  made  up  entirely  of  strap 
flowers ;   and  we  saw  that  the 
daisy  and  aster   and   golden-rod  were 
made  up   partly  of  strap  flowers,  and 
partly  of  tube  flowers. 

And  here  you  have  a  great  thistle 
;^MIIM^I    head  (Fig.  274).     If  you 
should  pull  it  to   pieces,  you   would  find 
only  tube  flowers. 

The    Composite    family   always   makes 
up  its  head  in   one  of  these   three  ways, 
using  either  nothing  but  strap  flowers,  or 
nothing   but  tube  flowers,   or   else  using  tube 
flowers  for  the  center  of  the  head,  and  strap       Fig.  274 
flowers  for  the  outside. 

Now,  I  hope  you  will  remember  these  three  ways  in 
which  this  important  family  puts  together  its  little  flowers. 

254 


255 


J/£> 


Fig.  276 


When    you  go    into    the    garden    where    a    big    sun- 
flower (Fig.   275)  is   trying   to    peep    into   your   neigh- 
bor's   yard,    I    hope    your    eyes    will    be  (K/A 
sharp    enough    to    see    that  this    sun-        £^\ ''Ay  ( ;;i!  ^f^ 
flower  is  a  cousin  to  the  field  daisv,       ^sJk%\\   {  M   'i''Z- 
and  that,   although    its  brown  cen- 
ter is  much  larger  than  the  daisy's 
golden  eyes,  it  is  made  up  of  tube 
flowers    (Fig.    276)    shaped    much 
like  the   tube   flowers  of  the  daisy. 

And  you   will  notice,    I   am  sure, 
that  the  yellow   circle  about  this  brown  center  is 
made  up   of   strap  flowers  (Fig.  277)  just  like  the  FlG- 
white  circle  about  the   daisy  center. 

And  what  is  that  which  falls  like  a  golden  shower 
from  the  great  brown  center  of  the  sunflower?  Ah, 
you  know  well  that  that  is  the  precious  pollen  which 
powders  thickly  the  visiting  bees  and  butterflies,  and 
goes  to  make  new  sunflower  plants. 

The  picture  at  the  head  of  this  chapter  shows  the 
wild  sister  of  the  garden  sunflower. 

When  you  come  across  the  bright  blue  flower  of 
the  chicory,  you  will  be  reminded,  I  hope,  of  your 
dear  old  friend  the  dandelion;  for  the  chicory  head, 
like  that  of  the  dandelion,  is  made  up  entirely  of 
strap  flowers. 

But  when   you  pick  a  spray  of  everlasting,  whose 
white  and  yellow  clusters  you  find  on  the  rocky  hill- 
sides, you  will  have  to  use  your  eyes  with  great  care 
if  you  are  to  discover  that  here,  as  in  the  great  purple 
thistle  head,  are  nothing  but  tube  flowers. 


Part  VII  —  Learning  to  See 


A    BAD    HABIT  » 

IN  fact,  if  you  are  to  see  any 
of  the  things   that  are  really 
worth    seeing,    you    must    study   the    f 
art  of  using  your  eyes.    You  must  learn 
to  see. 

This  world  is  full  of  things  that  are 
beautiful  and  interesting,  things  that  do 
not  cost  money,   that  can   be  had     rf#$mA 

{     r     ' 

for  the  seeing.  Mm. 

School  is  nearly  over  now,  and     mr$ 
during  the  weeks  that  lie  before 
you  there  will  be  many  hours  which  you  children  can 
call  your  own. 


DANA'S    PLANTS. —  I  7 


257 


2$8 

I  wonder  what  you  will  do  with  'these  holiday 
hours  ? 

Of  course,  you  will  play  a  great  deal;  at  least,  I 
hope  you  will,  for  we  need  play  almost  as  much  as  we 
need  work.  But  one  does  not  play  every  minute,  even 
in  the  holidays.  I  hope  that  all  of  you  will  spend  a 
part  of  your  holidays  in  trying  to  be  a  little  useful  to 
your  mothers. 

But  even  then  there  will  be  some  time  left  for  other 
things,  —  things  that  are  not  work,  and  that  are  not 
exactly  play,  yet  that  are  a  little  of  each,  and  so  per- 
haps better  than  either  play  or  work  alone. 

Among  these  "other  things"  I  hope  "learning  to 
see  "  will  find  its  place.  I  wish  that  every  child  who 
reads  this  book  would  make  a  resolution  that  during 
these  coming  holiday  weeks  he  will  "learn  to  see." 

There  are  many  different  ways  of  doing  this.  The 
children  in  the  city  can  learn  this  great  lesson  as  well 
as  those  who  live  in  the  country.  There  is  much  to  be 
seen  in  the  city  besides  people  and  houses,  and  horses 
and  wagons.  There  are  the  clouds  of  the  sky  by  day, 
and  its  stars  by  night.  There  are  the  trees  in  the 
squares,  the  birds  and  flowers  in  the  parks,  and  much 
besides. 

The  children  who  live  by  the  sea  do  not  have  the 
great  forest  trees  that  grow  among  the  mountains ;  but 
for  this  loss  they  can  comfort  themselves  by  the  beauti- 
ful rose  mallows  (see  the  picture  at  the  head  of  this 
chapter)  that  grow  in  the  marsh,  by  the  sea  pinks  along 
the  creek,  by  the  pretty  shells  and  seaweeds  on  the 
beach. 


259 

But  perhaps  you  think  I  am  quite  wrong  in  taking  it 
for  granted  that  you  need  to  "learn  to  see."  What 
gives  me  the  idea  that  you  ought  to  learn  any  such 
lesson  ? 

Well,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  if  I  hand  a  flower  to  a 
child  and  ask  him  to  look  at  it  and  then  to  tell  me  about 
it,  he  will  stare  at  it,  oh,  very  hard  indeed,  for  some 
moments,  and  then  he  will  have  nothing  to  say. 

Now,  this  cannot  be  the  fault  of.  the  flower;  for  we 
have  seen  that  the  flower  is  made  up  of  so  many  differ- 
ent things  that  to  tell  about  them  all  takes  some  time. 
It  must  be  the  fault  of  the  child ;  or  at  least  the  fault  of 
his  eyes  and  brain,  both  of  which  are  needed  for  really 
seeing,  and  which  probably  he  does  not  know  how  to  use. 

It  must  be  that  he  has  never  "learned  to  see."  Per- 
haps he  has  used  his  eyes  well  enough,  and  has  really 
seen  a  great  many  things  in  the  flower ;  but  his  brain 
may  not  be  able  to  put  them  together  in  the  right  way, 
and  to  find  the  words  that  are  needed. 

If  this  is  the  only  trouble,  a  little  practice  will  make 
it  all  right.  He  will  find  that  his  brain  works  better 
after  each  trial,  just  as  a  new  pair  of  scissors  works 
better  after  it  has  been  used  several  times. 

But  often  the  eyes  do  not  seem  to  do  their  share  of 
the  work ;  and  if  they  do  not,  there  is  no  chance  for  the 
brain  to  come  to  their  help. 

That  is  a  sad  state  of  affairs,  because,  if  when  we  are 
young  we  let  our  eyes  form  bad  habits,  such  as  not 
seeing  the  things  they  ought  to  see,  we  are  likely  to  be 
half  blind  all  the  rest  of  our  lives. 

It  would  be  a  terrible  thins:,  would  it  not,  to  be  told 


26o 

that  you  were  about  to  become  blind,  that  soon  you 
would  be  unable  to  see  the  things  about  you  ? 

Now,  while  I  trust  that  none  of  you  will  ever  become 
altogether  blind,  I  tell  you  honestly,  I  greatly  fear  that 
some  of  you  are  in  danger  of  becoming  partly  so,  —  of 
becoming  blind  to  many  of  the  things  about  you  that 
would  please  you  greatly  if  you  only  saw  them.  And  I 
know  that  this  sort  of  blindness  must  take  from  your 
lives  much  happiness. 

But  still  you  may  wonder  how  I  know  this  about 
children  whom  I  have  never  seen.  How  can  I  know 
whether  the  boys  and  girls  who  read  this  are  in  any 
danger  of  losing  their  power  to  see  ? 

Well,  the  only  way  I  know  about  you  boys  and  girls, 
whom  I  have  never  seen,  is  by  watching  very  carefully 
the  ones  I  do  see. 

You  children  who  live  in  New  York,  say,  have  never 
seen  the  children  who  live  in  California ;  yet  you  feel 
sure  that  they  have  eyes  and  ears  just  as  you  have,  do 
you  not  ? 

And  you  are  pretty  confident  that  most  of  them  like 
to  play  far  better  than  they  like  to  work  ;  that  some- 
times they  are  good-natured,  and  that  again  they  are 
quarrelsome  ;  and  that  in  many  ways  they  are  like  the 
boys  and  girls  who  live  near  you. 

In  just  the  same  way  I  am  able  to  guess  that  you 
children  whom  I  do  not  know  are  more  or  less  like  the 
ones  I  do  know. 

Now,  among  these  children  only  a  few,  as  I  have 
said  before,  seem  to  have  the  full  use  of  their  eyes. 
This  troubles  me,  because  the  evil  is  one   that   arrows 


26l 

greater  as  the  children  grow  older.  Perhaps  you  know 
that  if  you  stop  using  any  part  of  your  body,  that  part 
soon  begins  to  lose  its  power  of  doing  the  things  it  was 
meant  to  do. 

If  you  should  not  use  your  legs  for  a  long  time,  they 
would  grow  so  weak  that  they  could  hardly  carry  you. 
It  would  be  much  as  if  you  had  no  legs,  or  at  least  as 
if  you  had  legs  that  could  not  do  the  work  they  were 
meant  to  do. 

If  you  stopped  using  your  hands,  you  would  find 
your  fingers  growing  stiffer  and  stiffer,  so  that  at  last 
they  could  not  take  a  good  hold  of  things. 

And  if  your  eyes  are  not  used  for  seeing  clearly  the 
things  before  them,  they  will  grow  less  and  less  able  to 
see  clearly. 

*oj^o* — 

A    COUNTRY    ROAD 

1HAVE  taken  a  walk  along  a  country  road  which 
was  bright  with  flowers  of  many  kinds,  where  lovely- 
colored  butterflies  and  buzzing  bees  were  hard  at  work 
hunting  for  sweet  stuff,  where  birds  were  singing  in  the 
trees  as  they  watched  'their  nests,  where  a  rabbit  would 
dart  from  the  bushes  close  by,  and  a  squirrel  would  scold 
at  me  from  overhead,  —  where,  in  short,  there  was  so 
much  to  look  at  and  delight  in,  that  I  could  hardly  make 
up  my  mind  to  keep  on  to  my  journey's  end,  instead  of 
stopping  to  see  if  I  knew  the  names  of  all  the  flowers, 
to  admire  the  queer,  bright-colored  little  patterns  on  the 
wing  of  the  butterfly  which  was  resting  on  a  neighbor- 


262 

ing  blossom,  and  to  find  out  what  sort  of  eggs  were  in 
the  nest  that  I  knew  must  be  near  at  hand,  for  the 
mother  bird  let  out  her  secret  by  her  frightened  clucking. 

Well,  I  have  taken  just  such  a  walk ;  and  on  going 
into  the  house  I  have  felt  as  if  I  were  obliged  to  put 
aside  a  book  of  enchanting  fairy  stories,  or  rather  as  if 
I  were  turning  my  back  on  fairyland  itself,  with  all  its 
wonderful  sights  and  sounds  and  adventures. 

And  then  what  has  happened  ? 

Why,  some  child  (it  has  not  always  been  a  child)  has 
come  in,  and  I  have  said,  "Was  not  that  a  fine  walk? 
What  did  you  see  along  that  lovely  road  ? " 

Now,  if  he  was  a  boy  (for  I  want  to  be  quite  fair),  he 
probably  had  seen  the  rabbit  and  given  it  chase ;  and  it 
is  more  than  likely  that  he  had  stopped  long  enough  to 
chuck  a  stone  at  the  squirrel ;  and  if  the  mother  bird 
had  not  finished  with  her  foolish  chatter,  I  fear  he  gave 
her  some  evil  moments  by  hunting  for  her  nest,  with  no 
good  intentions.  But  if,  fortunately  for  them,  he  had 
met  none  of  these  creatures,  he  probably  looked  at 
me  in  surprise,  and  answered  by  look,  if  not  by  words, 
"  No,  I  thought  it  a  long,  stupid  walk.  I  did  not  see 
a  thing." 

And  if  it  was  a  girl,  I  fear  the  answer,  silent  or 
spoken,  was  much  the  same. 

Now,  I  say  that  boy  or  girl  must  have  been  partly 
blind  to  have  missed  seeing  those  wonderful  flowers, 
and  butterflies,  and  bees,  and  birds,  and  many  other  in- 
teresting things  which  I  have  not  time  here  to  tell 
about.  Certainly  they  were  not  using  their  eyes  prop- 
erly ;    and  the   longer  they   go   about  in   such    a   way, 


263 

more  worthy  of  a  bat  than  of  a  well-made  child,  the 
more  useless  and  bat-like  will  their  eyes  become. 

It  is  really  more  natural  for  a  child  to  use  his  eyes 
constantly  than  it  is  for  an  older  person.  The  grown-up 
man  or  woman  is  likely  to  have  so  many  things  to  think 
about,  that  eyes  and  brain  do  not  always  work  together, 
and  so  the  surroundings  are  not  noticed. 

For  every  boy  knows  that  if  his  head  is  full  of  the 
ball  game  he  is  going  to  play,  he  runs  along  without 
eyes  or  thoughts  for  other  things. 

And  every  girl  knows  that  if  she  is  on  her  way  to 
some  friend  to  whom  she  has  a  secret  to  tell,  she  is  in 
such  haste  to  reach  her  journey's  end,  and  is  so  busy 
thinking  what  her  friend  will  have  to  say  about  it  all, 
that  of  course  there  is  no  time  to  pay  attention  to  any- 
thing else.  Her  eyes  may  be  in  good  working  order, 
yet  they  are  not  of  much  use  unless  her  brain  is  ready 
to  help  them ;  and  that  little  brain  just  now  is  too 
busy  with  its  secret. 

No,  by  the  people  who  are  half  blind  I  mean  only 
those  who  much  of  the  time  use  neither  eyes  nor  brain, 
who  can  neither  tell  you  what  they  have  seen  nor  what 
they  have  been  thinking  about.  Sometimes  it  seems  as 
if  such  people  were  not  only  half  blind,  it  seems  as  if 
they  were  only  half  alive. 


264 


A    HOLIDAY    LESSON 

BUT  I  am  in  hopes  that  some  of  the  children  who 
read  this  book  will  say,  "  I  do  not  think  it  fair  to 
call  children  half  blind  and  only  half  alive.  I  know  I 
am  not  half  blind.  I  saw  all  those  things  that  Mrs. 
Dana  saw  along  that  country  road,  and  "  (perhaps  some 
of  them  may  add)  "  a  good  deal  more  too.  I  know  all 
the  different  flowers  by  sight,  and  the  sunny  hollows 
where  the  first  ones  come.  I  know  where  ever  so  many 
of  the  birds  build  their  nests,  and  how  their  different 
eggs  are  marked  and  colored.  Often  I  go  down  to  the 
little  pool  in  the  woods  where  they  come  for  their  bath. 
I  know  how  the  caterpillars  wrap  themselves  in  leaves 
and  come  out  beautiful  butterflies.  I  have  peeped  into 
the  hollow  of  the  tree  where  the  red  squirrel  is  bringing 
up  its  family  ;  and  I  have  seen  how  the  pretty  green 
katydid  scrapes  his  wings  along  his  sides,  and  makes 
the  sound,  '  Katy  did,  Katy  didn't,'  and  oh,  so  many 
more  things  that  I  have  not  time  to  tell  them  all." 

Ah!  that  is  just  it.  The  child  that  knows  how  to  use 
his  eyes  can  see  so  much,  so  many  wonderful  things ! 

That  is  why  I  am  so  anxious  that  he  or  she  should 
not  miss  through  carelessness  the  revelations  that  come 
to  the  child  alone. 

It  seems  as  though  the  woods  and  fields  were  more 
ready  to  tell  their  stories,  to  whisper  their  secrets,  to 
children  than  to  grown  people.  If  people  learn  to  use 
their  eyes  and  ears  only  after  they  are  grown,  I  hardly 
think  that  they  will  ever  read   quite  the  same  stories, 


265 


ever  listen  to  quite  such  wonderful  secrets,  as  if  they 
had  begun  to  look  and  to  listen  when  they  were  little 
children. 

If  fairy  godmothers  came  now,  as  the  stories  tell  us 
they  did  once  upon  a  time,  to  the  christenings  of  our 
little  ones,  offering  whatever  gifts  the  parents  should 
choose,  it  seems  to  me  one  of  the  wisest  selections  would 
be  the  power  to  see. 

And  so  when  I  ask  you  children,  now  that  you  are 
putting  by  your  lesson  books  for  many  weeks,  to  learn 
one  lesson  this  holiday  time, — to  learn  to  see,  —  I  am 
asking  you  to  do  something  that  will  make  your  lives 
far  happier  than  they  could  be  were  this  lesson  left 
unlearned. 


INDEX 


(For  the  convenience  of  teachers  and  other  older  readers,  technical  terms  avoided  in  the 
body  of  the  book  are  given  in  the  index.) 


A 

Above-ground  roots,  ioo-iii. 
Acorn,  seed  of  oak,  68. 

seed  leaves  of,  87. 

a  fruit,  95. 
Adder's  tongue,  yellow,  203,  216,  219. 
Air,  composition  of,  151. 
Air  roots,  107. 
Alder,  black,  49. 
Alder,  speckled,  173. 
Alder,  swamp,  173. 
Alder  tassels,  207-209. 
Almond  seed,  a  food,  91. 
Amphibious  knotweed,  119,  123. 
Anemone,  203,  209,  216,  219. 
Animals     and    plants,    difference    be- 
tween, 154,  155. 
Anthers,  see  "  dust  boxes." 
Apple,  study  of,  11-19. 

seed  of,  20,  24,  27,  29,  93. 

signs  of  ripeness  of,  28,  29. 
Apple  blossom,  parts  of,  14,  15,  32. 

buds  of,  129. 
Ash,  seed  of,  62. 
Aster  puff  ball,  39. 
Asters,  251,  252,  254. 


B 

Baneberry,  red,  49. 
Baneberry,  white,  49. 
Barberry,  49. 

stamens  of,  193. 
Bark,  defined,  120,  121. 
Basswood,  leaves  of,  165. 
Bean,  planting  of  seed  of,  80. 

seed  leaves  of,  81. 

development  of  seed,  81-83,  96-98. 

root  of,  99. 

stem  of,  115,  117. 
Bee,  a  pollen  carrier,  17,  18,  189,  207, 

226,  227,  233. 
Beech  tree,  215. 
Beet,  root  of,  102,  103. 
Birch  tassels,  208,  209. 
Birds,  as  seed  transporters,  72,  73. 
Bittersweet  berries,  42. 


Black  alder,  49. 

Blackberry,  development  of,  235-237. 

Bladderwort,  179,  180. 

Bloodroot,  106. 

Bloom,  173. 

Blue  daisy,  251. 

Blue  flag,  classified,  88. 

Bristles,  175. 

Bryophyllum,  132,  133,  150. 

Buckwheat  seed,  a  food,  91. 

Buds,  125-133. 

protection  of,  126,  127,  131. 

position  of,  128,  132. 

unprotected,  130. 

on  leaves,  132,  133. 
Bulb,  described,  105,  106. 

an  underground  stem,  216,  217. 
Bulblets,  defined,  132. 
Burdock  burr,  35,  36,  52,  53,  95. 
Burrs,  description  of,  52. 

use  of,  to  plant,  53. 

as  seed  cases,  67,  68. 
Buttercup,  pistiis  and  stamens  of,  201 
Buttonwood  buds,  130,  131. 


C 

Cabbage  leaves,  173. 
Cabbage,  skunk,  204. 
Caladium,  163,  164. 
Calyx  (cup),  described,  15. 

position  of,  18. 

function  of,  188. 

defined,  189. 
Carrion  vine,  230,  231. 
Carrot  root,  102. 
Carrot,  wild,  246,  247. 
Castor-oil  plant,  seed  of,  72. 
Cells,  139-143. 

description  of,  139. 

passage   of  moisture    through,    147. 
148. 

water  supply  of,  149. 

functions  oi,  132. 

loosening  leafstalk,  185. 
Cherry  blossom,  parts  of,  37,  38,  188. 
189,  218. 

development  into  cherry,  37,  38,  189. 


267 


268 


Cherry  tree,  branch  of,  126. 

buds  of,  129. 
Cherry,  wild,  39. 
Chestnut,  burrs  of,  67,  68. 

seed  leaves  of,  87,  88. 

leaves  of,  161. 
Chicory  flower,  pollen  of,  197. 
Chlorophyll  (leaf  green) ,  described,  137. 

function  of,  151-161. 
Chokecherries,  39,  40. 
Clematis,  seed  appendages  of,  58. 

fruit  clusters  of,  59. 

stem  of,  i-i 5. 
"  Clock,"  dandelion's  fruit,  35. 
Clover,  red  and  white,  117. 

leaf  of,  168. 

a  flower  head,  243,  244,  247. 
Coal,  origin  of,  152,  153. 
Cocoanut,  69. 
Coffee  seed,  a  food,  91. 
Color  change  in  leaf,  185. 
Coloring  of  fruit,  function  of,  42,  43,  50. 
Columbine,  plan  of,  221. 

spur  of,  226. 
Composite  family,  248,  252,  254. 
Corm,  105,  106. 
Corn,  seed  of,  80,  88. 

seed  leaves  of,  88. 

stem  of,  114,  117. 

stalk  of,  120,  121. 
Corolla,  position  of,  15. 

of  apple  blossom,  19. 

function  of,  188. 

defined, 190. 
Cottonwood  seed,  61. 
Cotyledons,  see  "  seed  leaves." 
Crane's  bill,  65,  66. 

Crocus,  bulb  or  underground  stem  of, 
105,  150. 

an  early  flower,  216. 
Cup,  green,  see  "  calyx." 
Cyclamen,  underground  stem  of,  105. 


Daffodil,  216. 
Daisy,  pollen  of,  196. 

plan  of,  249-251. 

blue,  251. 

flower  head  of,  252. 

strap  and  tube  flowers  of,  254,  255. 
Dandelion,  puff  ball  of,  35,  36,  95. 
•  fruit  cluster  of,  60. 

plan  of,  247,  248. 

flower  head  of,  252. 

strap  flowers  of,  254,  255. 
Dicotyledonous  plants  (plants  with  two 

seed  leaves),  85-87. 
Dodder,  108-110,  114,  123. 
Dogwood,  berries  of,  42. 
Dogwood  blossom,  plan  of,  245. 


Duckweed,  in. 
:  Dust  boxes  (anthers),  position  of,  14, 
227. 
contents  of,  17. 
function  of,  188. 
varieties  of,  193-195. 
Dutchman's  breeches,  203. 


Easter  lily,  building  plan  of,  191. 

stamens  of,  193. 

description  of,  218,  219. 
Elm,  seed  of,  62. 

Enchanter's  nightshade,  stamen  of,  195. 
English  ivy,  106,  107,  115,  116. 
Eucalyptus,  perspiration  of,  149. 
Evening    primrose,    a  night-blooming 
flower,  229,  230. 

pollen  of,  197. 
Evergreen  leaves,  184. 
Evergreen  plants,  171. 
Everlasting,  255. 
Eyes  of  potato,  104,  131. 


False  Solomon's  seal,  48. 
Ferns,  215. 

Fertilization,  see  "  pollen." 
Fibrous  roots,  102,  103. 
Fir  tree,  trunk  of,  121. 
Fireweed,  pod  of,  58. 

stamens  and  pistil  of,  227,  228. 
Flax  plant,  no. 
Fleshy  root,  102-104. 
Flower  cluster,  245,  246. 
Flower  dust,  see  "pollen." 
Flower  head,  244,  247-255. 
Flower  leaves,  192. 
Flowering  plants,  22. 
Flowers,  187-255. 

with  many  pistils,  201,  202. 

with  stamens  only,  206-211. 

with  pistils  only,  207-211,  250. 

of  trees,  209-211. 

night-opening,  228-230. 

design  of  odor  of,  231. 
Food  of  plants,  143-148,  150. 
i  Forsythia,  buds  of,  129. 
!  Foxglove,  garden,  225. 
I  Foxglove,  yellow  false,  112,  225,  226. 
Fruit,  the  plant's  object,  24. 

the  seed  holder,  33-36. 

defined,  34,  94. 

wild  and  cultivated,  39,  40. 

varieties  of,  52-55,  95. 

function  of,  95. 

formed  from  pistil,  202. 
Fruits  and  seeds,  9-73. 


269 


Garden  foxglove,  225. 
Geranium,  wild,  65,  66,  220. 
Golden-rod,  fruit  dusters  of,  59. 

stamens  of,  194,  195. 

plan  of,  252,  253. 

description  of,  254. 
Grass  of  Parnassus,  pistil  of,  200. 
Grass  plants,  classified,  88. 

H 

Hairy  leaves,  design  of,  170-175. 
Hanging  roots,  107. 
Haws,  49. 
Hemlock  cone,  62. 
Hemlock  tree,  171,  184. 
Hobblebush,  leaves  of,  215. 

buds  of,  130. 

flower  cluster  of,  245,  246. 
Holly  leaves,  174,  175. 
Hop  hornbeam  fruit,  62. 
Horse  chestnut,  buds  of,  126,  128. 
Hyacinth,  216. 

I 

Indian  corn,  see  "  corn." 

Indian  cucumber  root,  44,  45. 

Indian  pipe,  112. 

Ivy,  English,  106,  107,  115,  116. 

Ivy,  Japanese,  116. 

Ivy,  poison,  107,  115,  116. 


Jack-in-the-pulpit,  flower  and  berry  of, 

47- 
underground  stem  of,  105,  123. 
leaf  of,  214. 

an  early  spring  flower,  216. 
Japanese  ivy,  116. 
"Jewelweed,  blossom  of,  222. 
pod  of,  65,  66. 

L 

Lady's  eardrop,  66. 

Lady's  slipper,  222. 

Laurel  flower,  pollen  of,  197. 

Leaf  blade,  described,  136,  137. 

position  of,  161. 
Leaf  green    (chlorophyll)    described, 

137. 
function  of,  151-161. 
Leaf  mouths,  function  of,  146,  159,  160, 

perspiration  of,  148,  149. 
Leaflets,  defined,  168. 
Leafstalk,  use  of,  115. 

a  bud  protector,  131. 

defined, 136. 
Leaves,  133-185. 


Leaves,  protection  of,  126,  127. 

buds  on,  132,  133. 

parts  of,  135-137. 

edges  of,  135,  136,  168. 

functions  of,  145. 

perspiration  of,  146, 149,  150,  170-173. 

as  storehouses,  150. 

position  of,  160,  161. 

shapes  of,  161,  167,  168. 

effect  on  roots,  162. 

net-veined,  165,  166. 

parallel-veined,  166. 

covering  on,  170-175. 

hairy,  170-172,  175. 

woolly,  172. 

as  traps,  176-183. 

fall  of,  184,  185. 

color  change  of,  185. 
Life  everlasting,  171,  172. 
Life  substance  of  plants  (protoplasm), 

140,  141. 
Lily,  classified,  88. 

underground  stem  of,  123,  150. 

flower  leaves  of,  191. 

plan  of,  191,  192. 

pollen  of,  196. 

pistil  of,  197,  198. 

development  of,  199. 

coloring  of,  226. 
Lily,  Easter,  plan  of,  191,  218,  219. 
Lily  family,  45,  219. 
Liverwort,  203,  219. 
Locust  leaf,  168. 

M 

Mallow,  stamens  of,  195. 
Mangrove,  fruit  and  stem  of,  92-94. 
Maple,  keys  of,  86,  210. 

winged  seed  of,  61,  86. 

seed  leaves  of,  90. 

branch  of,  126. 

buds  of,  129. 

leaf  of,  136,  165,  167. 

flower  of,  210. 
Maple,  red,  92,  127. 
Maple,  silver,  210. 
Maple,  sugar,  92,  210. 
Maple,  swamp,  210. 
I  Marsh  marigold,  a  spring  flower,  203. 

plan  of,  218. 

pistils  of,  219. 
Midrib  of  leaf,  137. 
Milkweed,  pod  of,  35,  95. 

seedbox  of,  57. 

seeds  of,  61. 
Mistletoe,  no,  in. 
Monocotyledonous  plants  (plants  with 

one  seed  leaf),  88. 
Morning-glory,  seed  leaves  of,  78. 

seed  of,  83,  90. 


270 


Morning-glory(developmentof,ii2, 113. 

stem  of,  114,  115,  117,  123. 
Mountain  laurel,  buds  of,  129. 

arrangement  of  stamens  of,  226,  227. 
Mullein  leaves,  170,  175. 


N 

Nasturtium  spur,  226. 
Nepenthes  leaf,  178,  179. 
Nettles,  175. 

Net-veined  leaves,  165,  166. 
Nightshade,  enchanter's,  195. 
Nightshade,  garden,  115. 
Nourishment  of  plant,  150. 


Oak,  seed  of,  68. 

root  of,  145. 

leaf  of,  167. 
Oat  seed,  a  food,  91. 
Orchid  family,  107,  223,  224. 
Orchids,  123,  223,  224,  226. 
Ovary,  see  "  seedbox." 


Palm  tree,  trunk  of,  121. 
Pansy,  plan  of,  220. 
Parallel-veined  leaves,  166. 
Parasitic  plants,  108-111. 
Parsley  family,  247. 
Partridge  berries,  45,  46,  51. 
Partridge  vine,  46,  184,  231. 
Pea,  seed  of,  80,  87,  90,  242. 

seed  leaves  of,  87. 

stem  of,  115. 

pod  of,  241,  242. 
Pea  blossom,  stamens  of,  194,  241,  242. 

pistil  of,  200,  241,  242. 

analysis  of,  240-242. 
Pea  family,  54,  240. 
Peach,  compared  with  apple,  36. 

blossom  of,  38. 

Persian  origin  of,  40. 

buds  of,  129. 
Pear,  compared  with  apple,  31. 

blossom  of,  32. 

buds  of,  129. 
Pear,  wild,  118. 
Peony  seeds,  75,  76. 
Perspiration  of  plants,  148,  149,  160. 
Petals  (handkerchiefs),  used  as  signals, 
17,  18,  188,  192,  221,  223,  226. 

functions  of,  188. 
Pine,  cone  of,  62. 

classified,  88,  89. 

leaves  of,  171,  184. 

flower  of,  197. 


Pins  with  dust  boxes,  see  "  stamens." 
Pins  without  dust  boxes,  see  "  pistils." 
Pistils  (pins  without  dust  boxes),  de= 
scribed,  15,  18,  197-202. 

function  of,  188,  198,  199. 

defined,  190. 

varieties  of,  200. 

flowers  with  many,  201,  202. 

fruit  formed  from,  202. 

position  of,  227,  228,  248. 

of  strawberry,  233,  234. 

of  berries',  236. 
Pit  or  stone,  37. 
Pitcher  plant,  176-178. 
Pith,  defined,  120,  121. 
Plants,  flowering,  22. 

object  of  life  of,  22,  23. 

use  of,  to  world,  26,  27. 

service   of,  to  animals,  26,  27,  156, 

157- 
young, 75-98. 
nourishment  of,  75,  76,  yj,  150,  156- 

160. 
with  two  seed  leaves  (dicotyledons), 

85-87. 
with  one  seed  leaf  (monocotyledons) 

88. 
with  many  seed  leaves  (polycotyle 

dons),  88.  89. 
parasitic,  108-111. 
development  of,  112,  113. 
absorption  of  water  by,  147. 
perspiration  of,  148,  149,  160. 
as  air  purifiers,  151-153,  158,  159. 
breathing  of,  158-160. 
storing  of  food  in,  185,  216,  217. 
protection  of,  214,  215. 
Plants    and    animals,    difference    be- 
tween, 154,  155. 
Plum,  compared  with  apple,  36. 

blossom  of,  38. 
Plum,  wild  beach,  40. 
Pods,  35,  54,  55,  58,  65-67,  241,  242. 
Poison  ivy,  107,  115,  116. 
Pollen    (flower   dust),   described,    14, 
196-199. 
carriers  of,  17, 18,  189,  207,  213,  223, 

224,  226-230,  233. 
effect  on  pistil,  18,  20. 
fertilizing  power  of,  18,  20,  196-199. 
transportation  of,  18,  207,  211,  213, 

226,  227,  229-231,  233,  250. 
function  of,  188,  198,  199. 
varieties  of,  196,  197. 
defined, 199,  200. 
Polycotyledonous   plants  (plants  with 

many  seed  leaves),  88,  89. 
Polygala,  222. 
Poplar  tassels,  211. 
Poppy  seed,  dispersal  of,  70,  71. 


271 


Potato,  a  stem,  104,  131. 

eyes  of,  174,  131. 
Potato,  sweet,  102. 
Prickles,  174,  175. 
Primrose,  evening,  197,  229,  230. 
Protoplasm  (life  substance),  140,  141. 
Puffballs,  35,  36,  59,  95. 
Pussy  willow,  129. 

tassels  of,  205-207. 


Quince  leaf,  135,  136,  137,  165. 


Radish  root,  102. 

Raspberry,  development  of,  237-239. 

Red  baneberry,  49. 

Red  clover,  stem  of,  117. 

Red  maple,  seed  of,  92. 

leaves  of,  127. 

buds  of,  127. 
Rhubarb  plant,  164. 
Robin's  plantain,  251,  252. 
Root  branches,  162-164. 
Roots,  origin  of,  81,  113. 

hairs  of,  81,  99-102,  104,  123,  143. 

function  of,  99-103. 

fibrous,  102,  103. 

fleshy,  102-104. 

as  food,  103,  104. 

above-ground,  106-111. 

varieties  of,  106-112. 

hanging,  107. 

underground,  111. 

water,  in,  112. 

absorbing  capacity  of,  146. 

spreading  of,  162,  163. 

position  of,  163,  164. 
Roots  and  stems,  99-122. 
Rootstocks,  function  of,  106,  217. 
Rose,  petals  of,  32,  33. 

stem  of,  120. 
Rose  family,  31,  32,  36,  40,  235. 
Rose  hip,  33,  34. 
Rose  mallow,  258. 
Rose  of  Jericho,  pod  of,  71. 
Rose,  wild,  32. 


Saint  John's-wort,  pistil  of,  200. 

Saxifrage,  pistil  of,  200. 

Sea  pinks,  228,  258. 

Seaweed,  258. 

Seed    sailboats    (appendages),    56-60, 

207. 
Seedbox  (ovary),  described,  15,  18. 
function  of,  188. 


I  Seedbox,  in  berries,  236-239. 
!  Seed  coat,  80-84,  86,  113. 
J  Seed  leaf,  plants  with  one  (monocotyle- 
dons), 88. 

of  corn,  88. 
Seed  leaves   (cotyledons),  description 
of,  78,  81-90. 

plants  with  two  (dicotyledons) ,  85-87. 

of  acorn,  87. 

of  pea,  87. 

of  walnut,  87,  88. 

of  chestnut,  87,  88. 

plants  with  manv  (polvcotvledons), 
88,  89. 

development  of,  113. 

number  of,  120,  121,  165. 
Seeds,  growth  of,  in  the  apple,  18-20. 

the  object  of  the  plant's  life,  24. 

importance  of,  to  world,  27. 

protection  of,  28,  29. 

reason  for  scattering  of,  50,  51. 

transportation  of,  52-64,  69-73. 

winged,  61. 

shooting,  63-67. 

nourishment  of,  75-77. 

planting  of,  79-87,  95,  96. 

germination  of,  80-89,  92>  I98,  *99- 

as  food,  89-91. 

as  storehouses,  90,  91. 
Shin  leaf  flower,  stamen  of,  193. 
Shooting  seeds,  64-67. 
Silver  maple,  210. 

Skunk  cabbage,  description  ot,  204. 
Snowberry,  stem  of,  117. 
Snowdrop,  216. 
Solomon's  seal,  fruit  of,  48. 

underground  stem  of,  105,  216. 

scars  of,  105,  106. 
Solomon's  seal,  false,  48. 
Speckled  alder.  173. 
Spice  bush  buds,  129. 
Spikenard,  49. 
Spring  beauty,  203,  216. 
Spur,  226. 

Squash,  seed  of,  80,  85,  86,  90. 
Squirting  cucumber,  67. 
Stamens  (pins  with  dust  boxes),  de- 
scription of,  14. 

function  of,  188. 

defined,  190. 

varieties  of,  193-195. 

position  of,  248. 
Steeple  bush,  leaves  of,  172. 
Stems,  development  of,  81,  112,  113. 

of  bean  plant,  96. 

underground,    104-106,     150,     216- 
219. 

varieties  of,  104,  1 12-120. 

use  of.  to  plant,  113-117. 

habits  of,  117-119. 


272 


Stems,  hairy,  n8,  119. 

sticky,  118. 

parts  of,  120. 

as  water  carriers,  146-148,  163. 
Stick-tight,  55. 
Stone  or  pit  of  fruits,  37. 
Strap  flowers,  247-255. 
Strawberry,  stem  of,  117. 

pistil  of,  201. 

development  of,  233,  234. 

description  of,  238. 
Sugar  maple,  seeds  of,  92. 

blossom  of,  210. 
Sumac,  43. 
Sun  (Sunbeam),  factor   in  plant   life, 

151-161. 
Sundew,  leaf  of,  182,  183. 

pistil  of,  200. 
Sunflower,  plan  of,  255. 
Sunflower  plant,  perspiration  of,  149. 
Swamp  alder,  173. 
Swamp  maple,  210. 
Sweet  potato  root,  102. 


Thistle,  56,  59,  118,  174,  254,  255. 
Thistle  down,  56. 
T.iorn,  49. 

use  of,  to  plant,  117,  118. 
Thorn  appie,  199. 
Tick  trefoil  pod,  54.  55. 
Ticks,  transportation  of,  55. 
Tiger  lily  buds,  132. 
Touch-me-not  pod,  65-67. 
Trailing  arbutus,  a  spring  flower.  203, 
209. 

plan  of,  217,  218. 
Transportation  of  pollen,  18,  207,  211, 

213,  226,  227,  229-231,  233,  250. 
Transportation  of  seeds,  52-64,  69-73. 
Traps  of  plants,  176-183. 
Trees,  flowers  of.  209,  211. 
Trunk,  a  stem,  119. 

section  of,  121,  147. 
Tube  flowers,  249-255. 
Tuber,  defined,  217. 
Tulip,  stem  of,  148. 

parts  of.  193. 

an  early  spring  flower,  216. 
Turnip  root,  102. 

U 

Underground  roots,  in. 
Underground  stems,  104,  105,  150,  216, 
217,  219. 


Veinlets,  described,  137. 

function  of,  160. 
Veins,  described,  137. 

function  of,  160. 

significance  of,  165. 
Venus's  flytrap,  leaf  of,  181. 
Violet,  a  spring  flower,  203,  209, 

plan  of,  220. 

spur  of,  226. 
Violet,  yellow,  203. 
Virginia  creeper,  116. 


W 


flower,  216. 


Wake-robin,  a  spring 

plan  of,  219. 
Walnut,  seed  leaves  of,  87,  88. 

seed  of,  90. 

a  fruit,  95. 
Water  lily,  stem  of,  116,  117. 
Water  roots,  in,  112. 
Wheat  seed,  a  food,  91. 
White  baneberry,  49. 
White  clover,  stem  of,  117. 
White  elm,  flower  cluster  of,  210. 
Wild  beach  plum,  40. 
Wild  carrot,  246,  247. 
Wild  geranium,  plan  of,  220. 

seed  dispersal  of,  65,  66. 
Wild  ginger,  a  spring  flower,  216. 

plan  of,  219. 

seedbox  of.  219. 
Wild  pear,  118. 
Wild  rose,  33. 
Willow,  seed  appendages  of,  61. 

roots  of,  in,  112. 
Willow  herb,  pod  of,  58. 

seeds  of,  61. 
Wintergreen,     leaves     of,    in     w 
184. 

berries  of,  49. 
Witch-hazel,  flower  of,  63. 

nut  of,  63-65. 

seed  of,  64. 
Wood  lily,  stem  of,  105. 
Woolly  leaves,  172. 


Yellow  adder's  tongue,  an  early  spring 
flower,  203,  216. 
plan  of,  219. 
Yellow  false  foxglove,  112,  225,  226. 
Yellow  violet,  203. 


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